


Enigmatic Candy Flavored Contextual Feelings Orbs

by EctoCoolatta



Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: A lot of mortality talk and some references to past unethical science, Added an oc tag bc there Will be just a few plot necessitated ocs, Alternative Title: Tommy begins to regret his attachment to mean people, And with some self indulgent sweet voice concept exploration, Because its romantic. Its character driven. I try to make sure its comedic even when heavy., Benrey's nonbinary here but he still uses he/him and likes being referenced with masc terms, Black Mesa Sweet Voice, But romcom tropes are not particularly present, Childhood Friends, I will wrangle the lore of this dingdong webseries, If you think anything should be warned for, Into worldbuilding if its the last thing i fucking do, M/M, Not A Game AU, Not Beta Read, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, This was tagged as romantic comedy but that probably gives the wrong impression, boomer in the background, dont hesitate to let me know and ill add a warning to start of chapter notes, sorry forzen fans but the only times he will probably even come up is to get bullied, typical frenrey roommates fic but the twist is that a good chunk of it is from tommy's perspective
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 73,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24921529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EctoCoolatta/pseuds/EctoCoolatta
Summary: Gordon isn't particularly happy about his new roommate, but if he can't get rid of him, he might as well make an effort to understand the guy. He's got a PHD and he's got at least one research resource, how hard could it POSSIBLY be?Author's Note: please, god, dni with me or my writing if you consume or create nsfw content of hlvrai, ESPECIALLY if you think of or portray benrey as predatory. I want nothing to do with you if you do or support these things.
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman, Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life), Tommy Coolatta/Darnold
Comments: 586
Kudos: 2028





	1. Chapter 1

"Look, Tommy, I know your dad doesn't want him over at your place, but are you positive, 100% positive, you couldn't get him to budge? Even temporarily so i could get a break? Or so you could get them used to the idea?"

"Mr. Freeman, Benrey isn't. He's- He's not like an unchipped stray I can get dad attached to by- by… taking him home and promising to find it's owner. Also, he seems pretty attached to the idea of staying at yours, even if I could convince my dad, I dunno if Benrey would even want to stay at mine, and my dad has no more control over him than anybody else..."

Gordon frowned. "Are you sure?"

Tommy gave a solemn nod. "Surer than- than a cat about to pounce."

This was a lie, one Tommy felt guilty for telling, but hey. A Big Bang Cosmic Pegasus was a Big Bang Cosmic Pegasus, and Tommy was not and has never been above Beyblade bribes. Benrey really didn't wanna move out, bothering Gordon was too fun, even if his feelings about the man were uh, pretty complex to say the least of it. Tommy preferred not to touch that with a ten foot pole when he could avoid it. Honestly, its a little exhausting.

Tommy's always liked mean people- they tended to be pretty funny so long as they weren't like, disrespectful, and a lot of them are only mean on the surface, but that latter bit was usually because they have Issues with a capital I and Tommy didn't have the uh. Didn't have the spoons to even try to untangle some of Benrey's.

Gordon gave a long-suffering sigh. "Fine. Well, in that case, I'll get to what I came over for. I want you to explain the Sweet Voice to me. You can read it, I want to understand it."

Tommy tilted his head slightly. "Why's that? You weren't concerned with it before."

Gordon's frustration lends his voice a bitter tone. "Because if the fucker is going to be living in my house with me indefinitely, I want to at least understand him a little more. Seems every other conversation the jackass is spitting orbs at me, and he's not keen on explaining ANYTHING."

Tommy gives an awkward smile. "Yeah, he's just kinda- just like that, Mr. Freeman. Learning how his Voice works will give you an idea how he's feeling, but it doesn't uh, make Benrey translate into american author Kurt Vonnegut or anything. It's kinda just a natural emotional response for him. Kinda like… crying?" Tommy hesitated, before reconsidering. "Mm. Maybe thats not a good comparison, since he can just- just decide to do it casually... but then, actors can make themselves cry to express things on purpose too. I'm not sure how accurate a human analogy- or, analogue, I could really make for it."

Gordon grimaced. "I didn't expect it to translate to anything more eloquent than the meanings you've already told me, my luck would have it no other way. Upside is, if its that basic, I should probably pick it up fast enough, if you're willing. Would you teach me?"

Tommy grinned like sunshine, glad to hear some interest in learning what he'd been translating since Benrey had attached himself to their group the way he had back in Black Mesa. "Sure thing, Mr. Freeman, sounds like it could be fun!"

* * *

This was not as fun as Tommy hoped it would be. Gordon keeps getting caught up on the details and its very much made Tommy's attempts at keeping up the momentum so he doesnt lose his point a complete nightmare. Tommy really needs to learn how to say 'we'll get to that eventually' but he DOES enjoy talking about his work.

But Gordon was just, utterly beside himself over the most basic of background information on Benrey's whole deal, and Tommy wasn't sure he'd even get to the basic ideas of how the voice works by the time Gordon had to leave.

"What. do you MEAN. 'he's a product of your old department', Tommy." Gordon looked like he was inches from having a conniption.

Tommy was too polite to express more of his own frustration when he replied. "Um, I meant what I said, Mr. Freeman. Did you really not know this?"

Gordon tried to keep his voice down, he tried his best not to yell at Tommy even when he frustrated him, but his bewilderment was plain to hear regardless. "Of fucking course not? I didn't even know what department you worked in. How was I supposed to know?"

Tommy said, flatly puzzled, "You could've- could've just asked." 

Gordon inhaled sharply, before breathing out, clearly regulating his frustration. "I feel like I did, but I will take your word for it. Just please, Tommy, explain."

Tommy shrugged. "I worked as a bioengineer when Black Mesa was still running. Sunkist was my thesis project in college-"

Sunkist barked in response to his name and came over to check if they needed anything. Sunkist was still pretty uncanny valley for Gordon, and his size was pretty intimidating, but hey, if hes perfect for Tommy, hes perfect for Tommy. Big dogs ARE better, after all. Tommy gave Sunkist an appreciative scratch behind the ear, and the mammoth canine settled himself down next to the two of them.

"-and I guess the perfect immortal dog caught some eyes. My dad apparently had a few connections there."

Oh yes. Connections. Gordon wondered if they were the same kind of connections that 'encouraged' him to stick around at Tommy's birthday party when he was ready to go home or if he actually had some legitimate prior influence there.

"So, I got hired! And my first real job was to monitor Benrey, because when I started working at Black Mesa at… hm… 26 going on 27 i believe? Jeez, I was working there for a full- full decade, huh. Weird to think its gone now. We were kinda just trying to keep up with him. They were pretty sure he was hiding his anom- his um, abilities until he could figure out how to try and get out with them… but it was pretty obvious to me he didn't- mostly didn't know what he was doing? He stopped trying to escape, uh, for the most part, when we gave him more stuff to do and I dug through the files from when he was made to read up on observations and figured out a little more about him."

Gordon shouldn't be surprised, but he definitely is. He kinda always is when he's reminded how much older Tommy is than him, but the confusion this time was less about that. He knew Benrey wasn't human, and he lived in Black Mesa before it went to shit, but somehow it hadn't occurred to him why or how those things were both true. He'd gathered at this point that they typically didn't let outsiders- by which he means, any scientists who aren't already in too deep for one reason or another- in on their weirder, more morally bankrupt experiments like Bubby. If the Resonance Cascade hadn't ended in the place getting wiped off the map, it probably would've been considered Gordon's hazing rather than the disaster it was.

"I'd say Benrey was about… 16 at the time? Time flies like birds, Mr. Freeman. Anyway, Benrey kept breaching containment starting at like, 7 years old or so. And they couldn't figure out how to get him to stop permanently, but they decided he's harmless. They couldn't really get rid of him, anyway. We became buds after I got assigned to keeping an eye on him and making sure he wouldn't, wouldn't do anything too difficult to cover up. Is that enough uh, background info, Mr. Freeman? Should we write a wikipedia page on him?"

If Tommy wasn't Tommy, Gordon would think he's being snarky with him. "N. No, Tommy, I uh, think thats sufficient for now."

Tommy was, maybe, being a little bit snarky with him.

Gordon was already a little exhausted of the topic, but determined to trudge on and get something useful out of this first lesson, decided to ask a question. "What does the blue mean?"

Tommy quirked an eyebrow. "You'll have to be- you've got to be more specific."

Gordon gestured aimlessly for a second, thinking of how to be more exact about a color. "The uh, the dark blue one. The one he was using all the time back in Black Mesa. The one he spit orbs of at me several times."

Tommy nodded in recognition. "Oh, that one! That ones contextual, so it depends. A couple colors are like that. Kinda like how people can cry because theyre happy, or angry, or sad, but its all the same- same physical response!"

Gordon pondered that for a moment. "…He said once that it means 'calm down', and another time that it means 'I hate you'."

Tommy grinned, glad to be back on topic. "Neither were a lie! I mean, he still could be lying about which he meant at a given time, but both meanings ARE right."

Gordon smiled, happy to have something concrete to cling to… but then he remembers something about the Sweet Voice that threw him off. The 'Sweet' part. "…Why in the fuck did it taste like blue raspberry?"

Tommy sighs.

* * *

Gordon returns to the apartment that night almost more confused than he started, honestly. And very mentally tired from absorbing so much information. He gives Benrey, whom is parked firmly on the couch playing his PS Vita in a shitty graphic tee and sweatpants (and, inexplicably, one of those knit hats with earflaps and a pompom on top despite the fact it's the middle of summer and they live in fucking New Mexico,) a half-hearted wave of defeated acknowledgement as he turned down the hall toward his and Joshie's bedrooms. He sure was a Sony fanboy if he got that thing, that much was for certain.

Gordon's brother was looking after Joshua at the moment, while Gordon… adjusted, after Black Mesa. He didn't want his night terrors or other new sensitivities to be his toddler's problem if he could help it. He went to visit frequently though. Benrey didn't question it when he stayed out all day, and Gordon thanked his lucky stars his home wasn't trashed when he got back. This was their understanding, and Gordon was glad his material boundaries were being respected after he laid them out explicitly for Benrey, at the very least.

Gordon nestled into bed and called his brother so he could tell Joshua goodnight, and that he'd see him tomorrow, and listened to him ramble on about cowboys… he had to wrap it up quick before he started to cry. 

Just then he heard a soft, higher pitched note of something he recognized immediately. He looked up, catching Benrey watching him from behind his just slightly open door, like a cat peering into a room they aren't sure if they want to enter yet, but when Gordon's eyes met his he made the fast decision to book it back to the couch. The sweet voice's soft light that hung in the air in his wake was a greenish yellow that turned into a yellowish orange. 

Gordon's relief that he hadn't closed the door behind him was palpable, because he didn't want to make him think he was inviting him in by reopening it or something, and he'd hate to admit it, but the light of the tv in the other room and the sound of Benrey grumbling or humming to himself over his games while he tried to sleep was definitely better than the eerie quiet and pitch dark that wouldve replaced it. As soon as he finally finished his call with Joshie and his brother, he noted down the colors in his phone for his next talk with Tommy, tucked himself in, and let sleep take him for the night, his TV, as usual, left on a channel playing corny 90s action movies to generate enough background noise to drown out his nerves for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Unbeta'd and also my first fanfiction for anything since like, 2016 or so. So please do be kind, lmao. Also, apologies in advance if updates are sporadic, i write for fun and pretty much only when inspiration strikes.


	2. Chapter 2

When Gordon wakes up, Benrey is still just chilling on the couch, still playing PS Vita. Are there even enough games on that thing to keep a normal person occupied that long? Whatever. Gordon gets started on his morning routine for days he was going for a visit with Joshua- get himself cleaned up like he hasn't been loafing around the apartment trying to even… grasp what had happened back in Black Mesa, let alone deal with it, eat something, try to seem like he's doing alright, and mentally prepare himself for the next barrage of concerned questions from his brother about how he's doing. Black Mesa hush money insisted he spare the details of what happened, but he could at least answer stuff like 'are you doing okay?' well enough. 

It had been a good few weeks since he got out. He could still remember how excited Joshie had been to see him the first time. He'd taken him to his brother's with the expectation of him being there a few days, because the project that resulted in the resonance cascade had Gordon working some nearly health-dangerous overtime. Frankly, while the pay and resources were absolutely dream job levels of incredible, the work environment was GARBAGE in retrospect even before his life was actively in danger. He's not even sure if they had a union. Though, in light of the monumentous procedure and ethics violations he'd learned of after all the 'it's classified' stuff had went out the window between him and the science team, it almost certainly didn't. Unless it was like police unions where they fiercely defend their own from wrongdoing- 

He was getting offtopic.

Thinking about Black Mesa's absolute lack of any ethical or moral code over his morning coffee however led his eyes over to Benrey, who had helped himself to some of Joshie's frozen Eggo waffles from the freezer, not even bothering to toast them. Gordon knew he shouldn't bother, but he couldn't help himself.

"…You could at least fucking heat those up, man."

Benrey smiles, just a little. "Whuh? And make em soft and soggy? Ruins the..." He smacks his lips. "…crunch."

Gordon grimaced, knocked back the last of his coffee like he was taking a shot at the bar and sighed. "Fine. Whatever. Makes no difference to me."

Benrey frowned, disappointed by the sudden halt on the train to their typical bickering.

Gordon gestured his coffee cup at Benrey. "I'm going out for the day."

Benrey leaned forward eagerly. "Where to, Feetman?-"

Gordon immediately snapped at him, startling a jet of teal orbs out of the mutant's mouth. "Don't! Follow me. It's none of your business. Just because you live here doesn't mean we're suddenly friends."

Benrey leaned back in his chair, frozen waffle settled between his sharp-toothed jaws, and he squinted bitterly at Gordon. He bit down with an honestly, kind of sonically horrible, crunch and set it back down- on the paper towels Gordon had only just noticed he'd been using as a plate instead of the just as accessible paper ones- chewing and swallowing, then pausing to cross his arms and spit another jet of yellow-green to yellow-orange Sweet Voice at him, this time with an oddly low pitch note compared to before.

Gordon huffed, glaring at him. He put his emptied coffee mug in the sink, checked one more time to make sure he was presentable, and left. 

* * *

Tommy was at the grocery store when he got his third frustrated vent text from Gordon about Benrey this week. Tommy hoped this was a temporary thing. He tried to hear him out and avoided trying to weigh in on stuff. He's pretty sure he's just blowing off steam because he's realized by now his nitpicking of Benrey's weirder behaviour will just lead to intentional antagonism. The guy really just wanted attention half the time, and he enjoyed arguments, especially stupid ones. He figured- or at least, hoped, Mr. Freeman would calm down and notice this eventually, and he was glad to help him learn how to understand Benrey better if it meant. Less of this.

Which is why he smiled when he saw he'd sent a little question in a post script message.

Gordon: (btw, what the fuck does yellow-green to yellow orange mean? He's done it twice since our lesson in completely different circumstances)

Tommy stopped his grocery cart beside the stacks of soda boxes to type a quick response, needing just a bit more info.

Tommy: high pitch or low pitch?

Gordon: PITCH plays a factor????? 

Tommy snorted at his confusion. Obviously it does, tone is important in getting across meaning in human language, why wouldn't it be in sweet voice? Benrey might not be human, but he's just as complex as one.

Tommy: of course, Mr. Freeman!

Gordon: I can't really remember what kind of pitch it was in last night, it was right before i went to sleep.

Tommy: I can just tell you both meanings of the colors you mentioned! High pitch is 'color like starfruit, that's so cute' and low pitch is 'if its sulphureous, he's just curious'!

Tommy pocketed his phone, hoping he doesn't hear from Gordon again about how much he hates living with Benrey for at least a few days. He's got his own stuff to worry about right now.

He gets to packing soda boxes into his cart, only to get a meek little tap on his shoulder.

He quickly turned his head over his shoulder, and looked down to see Darnold wave at him in greeting. "Hello! Tommy, correct?"

Tommy smiled and turned around to face him. "O-oh! Hey! Its good to see you. I haven't seen you since- since." 

Darnold smiled back awkwardly, "Yes… I'm happy to see you made it out! Did you and… yours, all make it out alright?"

Tommy nodded along. "Yep! Thank you again for the uh, help, Dr. Darnold. I wish you had come along with us, You- you would've made a great addition to the Science Team!" Tommy did a little jazz hands alongside their little team name, and smiled a little bigger when it made Darnold chuckle.

"Ah, I couldn't have. I don't have the stomach for… all that." Darnold said, looking up and away, clearly a little nauseated at the thought of the Science Team's gratuitously violent method of operation under duress.

Tommy quirked an eyebrow, and started putting boxes of soda in his cart again while he continued talking to the doctor. "How did you get out yourself, then? Can't imagine it was- was easy going it alone."

Darnold shyly replied, "Well, on the contrary, it seemed the priorities of… most everyone was set on you guys, and you'd already cleared out most of the creatures in the higher levels, so it was actually surprisingly easy! I suppose I have you guys to thank for making it out without any… blood on my hands."

Tommy grinned at him, a box of Dr. Pepper under both arms. "I'm glad! I was worried thinking I might not get a- get the chance to talk to you more," Tommy dropped both soda boxes into the growing stack in his cart, then scratched idly at the back of his head, "I'm very- I'm real interested in your work, Doctor."

* * *

Gordon wasn't looking forward to going back into his apartment. A thunderstorm had started around 6:00 pm, and he'd had a little bit of a breakdown at his brother's went the lights cut out. He and John had to hug it out for a while while his spouse went to get the flashlights for him to really… ground himself in the here and now. Joshie was so confused and upset.

Eugh. Can't just sleep in the car. Gotta go in.

...Well, he's slept in worse places-

No, can't entertain that thought. He will not let that mutant bastard steal his apartment just because he doesn't want to be around him.

Gordon threw on the jacket he keeps in the backseat for rain, and he stomped his way inside the apartment building. He waved to a neighbor, but made it clear he was in a hurry so as not to be pulled into conversation with him.

He took a deep breath when he reached his door, unlocked it and went inside. He's not sure why he expected any different- he's STILL playing that fucking PS Vita.

"Genuinely, what in the HELL has you so enthralled with that system. What game does the PS VITA have that has you so fucking enraptured?"

Benrey turned his head just enough to look at him, pausing for a long time. Gordon has learned that if he glares at him long enough without repeating himself, he'll usually actually answer him. It might not make any sense, but he'd answer him.

He smacks his lips, pauses again much more briefly, and turns back to the Vita. "...Digimon."

For some reason, maybe its just how goddamn… tired he is, or maybe it's the way he says it, or maybe even just how LONG he's spent playing it, but Gordon broke into a peal of wheezy, hearty laughter hard enough that he had to steady himself on the doorframe. "Digimon?!"

Benrey sounded a little annoyed, but also a little amused. "Um, yeah bro. You heard me."

Gordon walked to look over Benrey's shoulder, and sure enough, he was looking at the funny little digital monsters game. "Isn't this that pokemon ripoff from the 90s? They still make games for this?"

Gordon almost jumps when Benrey scoffs out loud, sounding legitimately offended. "Uhhhhhh no? You wouldn't fucking call. Power Rangers, a ripoff of Gundam just cause theyre both about giant robots, digimon and pokemon are so fucking different, bro."

Gordon would gladly take this opportunity to be the asshole. He didn't know enough about Digimon to keep it up long, but not knowing shit about things never seemed to stop Benrey. He had long past earned this. "Hmmm, I dunno _bro _, seems pretty similar to me. Kids adventuring with their superpowered evolving monster partners seems a little too specific to be a coincidence."__

__Benrey narrowed his eyes at Gordon and paused the game. "They're so fucking different, the worldbuilding, the gameplay, _the designs and themes_ -"_ _

__Gordon cut him off before he could make any kind of salient point. "Ooooo, the _designs _and _themes? _That all you can think of? Sounds like Digimon IS a ripoff if thats all that separates them."_____ _

______Benrey gave a grumpy huff, rolled his eyes and stood up. "Can't fucking believe this. Gotta fuckin- show you how fucking wrong you are. Again."_ _ _ _ _ _

______The genuine offense was enough to actually make Gordon cry laughing, especially when Benrey tried- futilely, because he was at his normal, roughly 5'5" size, nearly half a foot shorter than Gordon- to shove him onto the couch. Gordon decided to humor him after he felt if he took much longer he'd try something more dramatic._ _ _ _ _ _

______Benrey spent the next 15 minutes trying and failing, to his annoyance, to find any of the digimon shows, before giving up and resorting to showing him the game._ _ _ _ _ _

______It didn't take long for Gordon, having grown up 100% a nintendo kid aside from his old PS3 from when he was about 13, to be very confused._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Wait, so what, what Digimon they can evolve from or into and the type advantages CHANGE, DRAMATICALLY, between games? And why would they be able to devolve into a weaker form, what is the purpose of that?"_ _ _ _ _ _

______Benrey's answers are, typically of him, extremely lacking. He gives a sharp sniff, then replies very simply, "Keeps ya guessin'. Shakes it up."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Gordon rested his arm on the couch's, then his chin in his hand. "Figures you'd enjoy the abject bullshit chaos of something like that over the simple, elegant, polished to a mirror shine Pokemon formula."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Benrey grumbled, "Yeah. Duh. 'Course I like this better than that- that creatively bankrupt stale corporate trash."_ _ _ _ _ _

______Gordon seized on opportunity. "Said like a ripoff is any less corporate or creatively bankrupt-"_ _ _ _ _ _

______Benrey squeezed his eyes shut, pulled off his knit hat- the first time Gordon's seen his hair, he thinks, and it's an absolute mess of shortish, wavy, very dark hair with an undercut that's gone too long without being buzzed back down, and Gordon takes note for future ridicule just how close it looks to a bland shaggy disney channel skater boy haircut, but greasier and worse- and bit down on the pompom on top with a long-suffering groan of frustration. Gordon hadn't seen him THIS annoyed many times and he was, if he was honest with himself about his own spitefulness, bada bah bah bah, McLoving it._ _ _ _ _ _

______"Don't be a baby, Benrey, adults use their words." Gordon teased._ _ _ _ _ _

______As if on cue, Benrey spit out a few deep notes of a pale yellow that reminded him almost of Sunkist's coat, before flopping over on his side in still-aggravated defeat, and Gordon gave a smug laugh and left Benrey alone to mope on the couch while he got ready for bed, sending Tommy a quick text._ _ _ _ _ _

______Gordon: hey, what's pale yellow with a deep pitch mean?_ _ _ _ _ _

______Tommy responded quickly._ _ _ _ _ _

______Tommy: pale gold like a yellow labrador means 'I hate this, please no more.' You aren't bullying your new roommate, are you Mr. Freeman?_ _ _ _ _ _

______Gordon snorted at the thought. If anything he'd been bullied into having a roommate at all. If hes gonna dish it, he's gotta know how to take it, too._ _ _ _ _ _

______Gordon: of course not. Just had a brief intellectual debate with Benrey about Digimon, is all._ _ _ _ _ _

______Gordon wrapped up the night with a routine call to tell Joshie goodnight, and slept surprisingly soundly that night._ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When i said this fic will update sporadically, i meant 'i might update this twice in less than 48 hours, i might update this one time in three months. Here's hoping we all stick to it, lmao


	3. sorry tommy

Week 2 of Operation Teach Gordon was going to be a rousing success, that much Tommy was clinging to. He'd cobbled together a LESSON PLAN for god's sake, he was not going to get off track this time. This lesson would get right to the point.

…He especially wanted this, because he DIDN'T particularly want anymore of Benrey's incomprehensible, stream of consciousness 'I'm clearly upset about something but I don't want to say so or even like, share what it is in any way, so I'm just gonna chatter on about absolutely nothing of substance and send you cursed images I thought were funny to deflect' 2:00 am texts, so he should maybe get on with it so Gordon saw that he was, at worst, a brat put in bad positions who made a few bad decisions, as far as Tommy understood things, as soon as possible. Benrey had been at his birthday, albeit in reduced-to-bones form, and they'd had a talk at one point when Benrey managed to stop lurking awkwardly around the edges of activity, unintentionally skeeving Mr. Freeman out half the party.

…Well, calling it 'a talk' was generous, it was hardly a back and forth. It was really more Benrey rambling a little too fast for Tommy to fully understand, but filling the air with enough cluttered orbs of much more straightforward color messages that Tommy got at least a rough idea anyway, and they hugged it out. Getting how Benrey communicates DID make getting what he was trying to express a lot easier, especially when he was too riled up to even attempt to be coherent to someone who didn't know how he processed stuff. 

Tommy's lesson plan for today was pretty simple- he'd go over a chunk of the simpler to remember single color translations- a few of which Gordon had already picked up from their time scurrying around Black Mesa- but were still good to review to make sure.

Tommy straightened his papers on the kitchen island with a confident smile, then left the stack there to grab drinks and snacks when he gets a text from Benrey.

Benrey: you wanna chill tonight  
Benrey: Im bored and Gordo has been spending all his time out of the house who knows where

Tommy considered for a moment. On one hand, Benrey being present for the lessons could make things easier with demonstrations available as a teaching tool. On the other though… Benrey would be even more bored (and annoyed by) his friends discussing him academically, and if he and Gordon were both present the inevitable bickering would distract both of them and all his planning would be out the window.

So it is with a guilty heart that Tommy lies. Only slightly, but still.

Tommy: sorry, I'm busy tonight! Tomorrow maybe?

Benrey: lame. But sure, sounds good. Boys niiiiiight

Tommy sighed, but smiled when he heard a knock at the door and went to invite Gordon in, and thought again about what Benrey had messaged him as Gordon settled onto the couch. 'Who knows where,' huh.

Tommy followed Gordon to the couch, and decided to try and clear something up for himself. "Mr. Freeman, have you mentioned that we're doing this to Benrey at all? Just curious."

Gordon scoffs, idly tightening his hair tie a bit. "No, I haven't. He doesn't need to know what I'm busying my time with, we aren't friends," Gordon quickly clarified, "Not you and me, Tommy, me and Benrey."

Tommy rolled his eyes while Gordon wasn't looking and then shook his head. "I meant- meant specifically, that I'm teaching you how to read his voice."

Gordon gestured out a little frustration as he responded, "Also no, why would I? He'd probably just show up here and distract us, better yet he might intentionally sabotage the whole thing! I don't know if he even wants me to understand him."

Tommy frowned, looking puzzled. "Mr. Freeman, I don't see why Benrey would have any- any real interest in being genuinely misunderstood."

Gordon crossed his arms and leaned into the couch. "I don't either, but I couldn't put it past him. He's a jackass and being incomprehensible is kind of his modus operandi."

Tommy sighed, exasperated. "I get why you think- where you get the impression but he really isn't some- some mustache twirling supervillain. He- he can't grow much more than stubble. He just likes- just likes to bug people and… He's just bad at…" Tommy fiddled with the edge of a piece of paper while he looked for the right words. "…Putting genuine- genuinity in what he says. He's shy about it."

Gordon snorted in disbelief, in a way that felt… just a bit condescending to Tommy. "He tried to kill us Tommy. And Benrey? Shy? I'll believe that when hell freezes the fuck over."

Tommy gave him a brief, withering look (which Gordon missed entirely, too busy greeting a sleepy recently awoken Sunkist, who'd come to see the two of them from the other room,) before cracking open a can of soda, pounding it, and crushing it against his forehead, tossing it into the couchside wastebasket.

Gordon didn't like hanging around Tommy's place too much, mostly because it was obvious it was his dad's too, and that was reflected in it. Everything was sleek and polished and modern- like something out of an interior decorating catalogue, and it made it feel less welcoming. Colder. Little stuff that was clearly Tommy's doing helped though, like the big wood and glass display case with cabinets beneath in the dining room, full of various collectors items of interest to Tommy- vintage glass soda bottles, rarer Beyblades, other toys and things. 

Tommy itched under his cap, before taking it off to play with the propeller. "Are you ready to start, Mr. Freeman?"

Gordon snapped back to attention, sitting up and tapping his foot. He crosses his arms and leans forward, eyes on Tommy's lesson plan. "Oh- uh, yeah! Where should we start?"

"I was uh, was thinking we should start by reviewing what you know already, and going over some basic one-color expressions." Tommy replied, picking up the pages and rifling through them, pulling a worksheet page from the pile with two fingers once he'd found it and handed it to Gordon.

Tommy handed him a pencil. "Just fill out what you- what you're already familiar with, and we'll start from there."

* * *

Benrey was bored out of his mind. Nobody to hang with, nothing but his Vita to play, and Gordon didnt even have the decency to leave him the Netflix password. Could he REALLY blame him at this point for looking for a way to entertain himself? 

This line of thought is the one that led him to snooping around the place a little. Not in Gordon or his kid's rooms- he recognized that would probably be a bridge too far for Gordon, then he'd be REAL angry and not like, FUN angry. But, Benrey figured, the storage closet in the hall was probably fine, right?

So he pushed open the bifold door and took a look. First he was met by exactly what he would've expected- a vacuum cleaner, some extra clothes he assumed couldn't fit in Freeman's personal closet, various household supplies… but the closet was deeper and a bit darker than he expected it to be.

Benrey grabs a flashlight from a pocket in the security vest he'd left lazily draped over one arm of Gordon's couch, returned to the closet, pushed the vacuum out of the way and clicked the flashlight on.

At first, his disappointment was immense, only finding boxes, stacked mostly neatly, utterly and obnoxiously mundane. Until he finds one labeled Games, and wastes no time tugging the box out of the closet and ripping the thing open. 

Benrey grinned, pleased with himself, excitedly pulling boxed games and a dusty old clunker of a PS3 from the box. "Oh, Feetman, you've been holding out on me."

Benrey made quick work of wiping the thing down and setting it up in the living room to see if it still works, and he's on his knees thanking the whole rotten universe for this fortunate gift when the iconically ambient startup screen sound rings out and the system hums to life.

Next step was, obviously, to see what titles Gordo was packing, so he looked to the assorted boxes he'd set aside and started to see what his options were. 

Uncharted, Mirror's Edge, Elder Scrolls: Oblivion, Assassin's Creed…

…Sonic 06, GI Joe: Rise of Cobra, Aliens: Colonial Marines.

Benrey couldn't help but grimace. Seemed Gordon's collection was a clean split down the middle- half bestsellers and critically acclaimed names, half absolute, unabashed, well known as bottom of the barrel garbage games. He sighed. "Yeesh, Gordo, get some fuckin. Taste."

Finally, he landed on the game that had piqued his interest. Kane and Lynch 2: Dog Days. Before, Feetman had mentioned it when he talked about how if he wasn't a scientist, he would've liked to be a streamer, but Benrey had never honestly heard of it before. He'd expected Gordon to have some kind of niche taste or something, but this just seemed kind of. Regular. Like a very normal, vaguely edgy video game, (and not even in the fun Shadow the Hedgehog kind of way, just like, the riding on Grand Theft Auto and Max Payne's coattails kind of edgy.) 

Benrey decides to give it a go. If it's Gordon's big, favorite game like it sounded, it's… probably good? Right?

* * *

Gordon rolls what Tommy had taught him around in his mind as he takes the elevator up to his floor.

Tommy had explained that single-color expressions are straightforward, and tend to express one feeling, although what that feeling is can differ based on context elements and things like pitch. Teal can mean surprise, or it can mean hunger, (or 'needs meal' as Tommy put it. Gordon wasn't sure 'hungry' was an emotion exactly, so much as a physical feeling, but whatever.) The dark shade of blue Benrey used with Gordon so often could mean either 'calm down' or 'I hate you,' but that he'd remembered. Trying to think of the times he'd used it before, Gordon wasn't sure which he was using at any given time, honestly.

Gordon was surprised by the sight that greeted him when he entered his apartment, toting leftovers from dinner at Tommy's for Benrey, (Tommy's idea, said he had to turn down an invitation to hang out with Benrey recently and felt bad,) and a folder of study materials.

Benrey was sat in front of the TV, face pulled into an intensely bewildered, concerned expression, a thousand yard stare and a hand over his mouth, his other draped over his knees, PS3 controller dangling dangerously from his fingers. He barely reacted to Gordon coming inside.

Gordon looked at the screen, and immediately understood.

"So. Some ending, huh? You think the uh, the shakey cam and VHS effects were cool?"

Gordon could barely finish what he said without cracking up, but he immediately lost his composure when Benrey took his hand off his mouth and just. Looked at him. Stared brokenly at him, his mouth just slightly agape.

Gordon sat on the arm of the couch and patted Benrey on the back, "What'd you think?"

Benrey ran his empty hand under his hat and into his hair so his forehead rested in his palm, and Gordon snorted, struggling not to laugh while he waited on the edge of his seat for an answer.

Benrey's voice is hushed and scandalized when he finally says something. "It… It's so fucking baaaaaad…"

A raucous laugh bubbles up out of Gordon from behind a shitty grin, he pushed up his glasses and covered his eyes with one hand as they started to water and Benrey whined a few bubbles of sweet voice- white and navy blue- and Gordon cracks up even harder.

"Probably the first thing we've agreed on since you moved in. I'm FASCINATED by that complete trainwreck," Gordon finally says, as his laughter winds down. "You eat anything? Tommy sent me home with leftovers for you."

Benrey shook his head and followed Gordon to the table, and nursed his psychological wounds by wolfing down an entire quart of chicken and broccoli by himself.

"I didn't say you could take stuff out of my closet." Gordon mentioned, lightheartedly enough that Benrey could tell he wasn't all too upset about it.

Benrey gave a lopsided smile, swallowed and replied, "Didn't say I couldn't either, set clearer boundaries."

Gordon pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan and rolled his eyes. "Sure. I'm setting that boundary now. No more rummaging through my shit. I guess you can use the Playstation, it's already out and set up and I haven't touched the thing in years anyway, so have at it, but the rest is off-limits."

Benrey gave him an eager thumbs up, eyes closed in chicken flavored contentment.

When Gordon went to bed that night, he gave Benrey a very brief, snarky hair tousle as he walked past, and it took all Benrey had in him to choke down the notes of feeling that welled up in his throat at that brief touch until he was alone. He just nodded, mouth shut tight, until Freeman went to bed, at which point he just flopped over on the couch and quietly sung out his aggravatingly complicated feelings.

Gordon hadn't quite fallen asleep yet when he heard the sweet voice's hum. He left the door cracked for the sake of a little extra light from the hall, but the slight opening allowed him a sliver of a look at the living room, and whatever was going on in there, it was fucking colorful.

Gordon crept, careful that his floor not creak and draw attention, to the door, and snapped a photo of the lightshow, crept back to bed and sent Tommy a text with the picture attached.

Gordon: what the hell does all THIS mean???

Tommy seemed to be typing a long time.

Tommy: thats a clusterfuck is what it is

Tommy: Mr. Freeman, it's 2 in the morning

Gordon: oh fuck it is

Gordon: sorry tommy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> benrey discovers gordon's ironic enjoyment of garbage video games, and tommy clings to the hope that this will be over soon
> 
> It will not be
> 
> sorry tommy
> 
> Edit: White and Navy like Donald Duck means 'genuinely, what the fuck.' I forgot to add this to the notes after answering it in the comments, rip


	4. Chapter 4

Tommy was relaxing in bed at noon, still in his pajamas, beneath the pleasantly crushing weight of the front half of Sunkist's gargantuan fluffy body when he remembered he'd invited Benrey over tonight, and buried his face in the dog's fur with a groan.

He looked back at the image Gordon had sent him last night- or technically, this morning- and just had to take a moment to rub his temples. So much to unpack in the prismatic mess Gordon had caught on camera. Tommy would really rather NOT address it if he could help it- but if he didn't push Benrey on the subject it might never get sorted. Someone had to be the adult in the room, and as much as he likes to think he always is, it wasn't gonna be Gordon, Tommy knew that much.

So Tommy resolved to at least TRY to have a productive talk with Benrey about his feelings toward Gordon tonight, god willing.

Considering that, Tommy sat up, figuring he should probably treat himself a little today. "Heya Sunkist, how would you feel about a w-"

Tommy need not finish, Sunkist was already fetching Tommy's shoes and sat waiting politely at the front door, nearly shivering with excitement.

Tommy got to his feet, threw on some weather suited clothes- it was supposed to be BOILING out today, so he went with a comfy white muscle shirt and jean shorts- a pair of sunglasses, and followed him to the door. Sunkist play-bowed and barked and howled, tail wagging wildly as Tommy donned his Dog Walkin' Shoes- a pair of white rollerskates, with orange soles and yellow laces and reinforced wheels.

Tommy put on his 'talking to the dog' voice, that silly lilted babytalk dog owner voice, and asked with teasing enthusiasm. "Where to today, Sunkist? You thinkin'… McDonalds?"

Sunkist shook his head vigorously, standing up and doing a little tap dance on his paws to exercise his growing nervous energy.

Tommy riled him up a little more, "Thinkin'… Subway?"

Sunkist growled in disgust at the thought. He reared up and put his paws up on Tommy's shoulders and whined, puppy eyes sparkling pleadingly.

Tommy hugged him with a laugh, struggling not to be toppled, "I know boy, I know! We're doing Dunkin Donuts."

Sunkist howled with delight and spun in place while Tommy pulled Sunkist's leash and harness from their hook by the door and got Sunkist set up to go. 

Tommy shut the door behind them, held tight onto Sunkist's leash, and they were off, Tommy pulled behind his Shire horse sized dog on his rollerskates like a sled, cruising comfortably as Sunkist ran at an impressive speed in the bike lane, rivaling the cars passing beside them, the wind spinning the tiny propeller on Tommy's cap.

The Dunkin nearest to home was used to Tommy and Sunkist by now, so they got on the drive through and got back out on the road with minimal distraction, aside from a fellow behind them who'd asked, bewildered by his size, what kind of dog Sunkist was that could get that big. Tommy gave him the honest answer- he's just a weird golden retriever- and got back to business.

Tommy got two coolattas- one for himself and one for Sunkist, and carries them in a cardboard cupholder he carries with one arm, the other holding onto Sunkist's leash. They take a mellower pace to prevent spills on the way back home and enjoy the sunshine. Tommy WOULD give Sunkist his right away, but he didn't want to do it where someone who's dog WASN'T immortal might see it and think it's a good idea, or deal with judgement from people who already knew better that coolattas weren't for puppies but thought Tommy didn't, so home was a better place to be for Sunkist to get his treat.

As Tommy gets back into the house, he's greeted by his father, sat stiff as a statue on the couch, ever-present briefcase left on the table.

Tommy greeted him back with a wave, rolling over to the kitchen island to set down the drinks before sitting down and taking off his skates, and the silence between them was… pretty awkward.

Tommy's feelings about his father were complicated and he preferred not to linger on it long for comfort's sake. 

Apparently, when Tommy's other biological parent passed rather suddenly, he'd kind of… panicked. Being an alien being, he hadn't really had any idea how to raise a normal human kid, which it seemed pretty clear Tommy, at least functionally, mostly was. When the G-man had properly re-entered his life as an adult a few years back, it had… certainly explained a few things. 

Tommy was a pretty normal kid, but he couldn't say he didn't notice a few things that were off about himself compared to other people. Like how in every picture of him taken with flash, he had a green eyeshine like some kind of raccoon, or his ability to percieve infrared and ultraviolet. It was weird being told humans generally can't when he was young, like being the only person in the world who wasn't colorblind.

Maybe in some subconscious sense, that was part of the inspiration behind his interest in bio and such. Making sense of that for himself. Now that he had an answer though, he was pretty reluctant to actually confront it, especially given certain things that had come to light as of the Resonance Cascade. Tommy's still a bit unsettled thinking about how well he was doing with a gun, as thankful for it's utility in the circumstances it made itself apparent as he was...

Thinking about it all too much gave Tommy a headache, so he just tried not to if he could help it.

His relationship with his father… wasn't particularly strained by all these complicated feelings honestly, to even Tommy's own surprise. He was a nice guy, he'd been very thorough in explaining himself, he'd apologized and they'd hugged it out and ever since he's been adamantly doing everything within his power to make him happy and make up for not being there, without being patronizing. They weren't particularly close, they hardly even knew eachother really, but they were friendly enough and it was clear he cared. 

Tommy still thought of himself as an orphan, as his father hadn't really… raised him, but he honestly struggled to resent him for it, because aside from a little confusion about himself, he'd had a pretty damn good life for an orphan, and though he didn't make himself a direct part of it until recently, G-man had made sure of that, like an alien guardian angel. Didn't make conversation any easier though.

Setting his skates beside the couch, Tommy announced, "I've got a friend coming over again, a little later."

G-man's droning voice leans toward a pleasant, hospitable tone, "Oh, lovely… who might it be? Perhaps that… Darnold, fellow, you mentioned the other day?"

Tommy shook his head, and started to sip his drink. "Oh no, he's great, but- but Benrey's been wanting to come over, he's been wanting to see my place. He should be over in- in maybe two hours?"

The warmth in G-man's voice is sapped immediately and replaced with a tentative hint of confusion and fear. "…Ah. I see. Yes. That one."

Tommy gave him a bemused look, expecting him to comment further, but he just excuses himself from the room.

* * *

Benrey's spent the day playing games, as usual, albeit with the emotionally draining background radiation of thinking about his feelings about Gordon. His being out visiting his son- god, that was still such a weird as hell thought, that he has a fucking SON. The man is a FATHER- left Benrey plenty of free time to stew in a mood without risk of venting sweet voice by accident and Gordon getting too nosy about it.

Benrey had noticed he was paying more attention when it was a color he didn't recognize the meaning of lately, and it would be just Benrey's luck for him to finally get tired of not understanding and start putting Tommy on the spot to translate right when he accidentally expressed something a little too revealing. He wasn't sure why he was so bothered by the thought of that, given he'd already managed to be… pretty forward, at least a few times, but it bugged him anyway.

…Maybe just because he'd already pretty thoroughly screwed whatever chance at… what he wanted, he might've even had. He wanted to accept that, but he also wanted to make up for how bad he fucked things up, but he ALSO couldn't seem to just, get the fuck over his dumb ass and move on himself. Now that, that was Freeman's fault. Fuck that guy for being that pretty and giving him all those mixed goddamn signals. The nerve of the asshole to catch him in his big-ass arms, and call his voice beautiful, and laugh at his jokes, and be that funny, and fuss over his wellbeing even knowing damn well he couldn't DIE while he insisted he hated him even before he'd done anything to deserve it-

A yawn came on, and Benrey's sweet voice bubbled out of his mouth like he'd exhaled underwater, in shades of red and pink and blue. He watched the lights with a grimace until they dissipated into the air, and he felt a sinking feeling in his gut.

He turned off the PS3 with a heavy sigh, and started to get ready to leave for Tommy's.

* * *

Tommy already had some music going and his Nintendo Switch docked and ready in the front living room when Benrey finally arrived and quickly made himself at home, practically flinging himself into the armchair, nestling into it like he was meant to be there. He kicked back, threw his arms up in the air and chanted excitably, "Boys niiiiiight, Boys niiiight!"

Tommy grabbed him a soda and fixed himself a rum and coke, complete with silly straw and fun little delightfully pointless cocktail umbrella.

Benrey leaned over to look at Tommy's drink. "What kinda soda's that? Looks like you prepped it for, uhhhhhhhhhh, photos."

Tommy replied, taking a sip. "Oh, it's a cocktail. Its mostly soda, but there's a little- a little alcohol in here."

Benrey's eyes widened curiously, and Tommy realized something. Black Mesa didn't allow alcohol on the premises- not that that stopped people from bringing it and hiding it. He was well aware Dr. Coomer had snuck in wine for him and Bubby to share a few times. It was a rule they'd tried to crack down on much more seriously than others, which was probably a big reason Bubby and Coomer had liked to break it. But Benrey tended to organize himself around rules- yeah, he might break them if it suit his needs, and he could be a bit of a lazy loophole artist, but he did still tend to structure his actions around his idea of what the rules were, and that meant…

"Oh, Benrey, you've never tried alcohol, have you?"

"Whuh? Huh? Course I have. Experienced." Benrey, replied indignantly, folding his arms and crossing his legs but noticeably fiddling with his hat and not looking at Tommy at all.

"I believe you!" Tommy replied cheerily, even though he very much did not. "If you want to join me at some point, you're free to, just let me know and I'll set you up," he continued, before going back into the kitchen to start some popcorn.

It didn't take very long before Benrey was peering curiously into the kitchen after him, as Tommy had expected. Even someone like Benrey could be predictable sometimes if you put in the time to be observant.

"You interested in a drink? You don't have to, but the offer's open. You can try a sip of mine, even." Tommy offered, gesturing to the liquor cabinet, and Benrey was quiet for awhile, before creeping in wordlessly. 

Tommy offered him a straw, but Benrey just looked at it, then picked up Tommy's drink and took a sip from the rim of the cup, Tommy's silly straw resting unused against his face, and Tommy couldnt help but snort.

Benrey puts the drink down and squints with a slight scowl. "Tastes like someone put hand sanitizer in your cola, bro."

Tommy shrugged. "It's fine if you don't like-"

Benrey took another, bigger sip.

"…I'll make you your own. In the meantime, get Smash Brothers ready to go."

* * *

This was a terrible idea.

Tommy was kind of shocked by how much of a lightweight Benrey was for a virtually invulnerable alien… mutant… thing, and he cut him off and started bringing him water when he started getting wobbly and significantly worse at Smash. Like a responsible person. Tommy was experienced with dealing with people who've been drinking and being drunk from his fraternity days, but Tommy wasn't prepared for this tonight. He wasn't expecting this at all.

Benrey was balled up on Tommy's couch, lying down and facing the wall, clearly crying. Although the sound was very muffled, the way he shuddered was unmistakeable. Tommy had not predicted Benrey to be a sad type of drunk. This was honestly worse than what Tommy HAD expected, which was negligable property damage.

"Hey… you- you good?" He tried, getting down on his level and putting a hand on his shoulder. With an abominably low pitched, droning 'ooo' that made Tommy shiver in discomfort, a bright white orb of sweet voice rose into the air.

White, white, white… it took Tommy a second to recall that ones meaning, being buzzed himself, but it came to him. White means he's not alright.

"Hey… you want a hug? I'm here." Tommy said, keeping his voice soft. In case he was just feeling overwhelmed, Tommy certainly didnt want to add to it. He knew how much worse that was when you'd been drinking.

Benrey shifted an arm over his face, taking a looooong pause, before sitting up with a huff, face a bit flushed but wiped free of tears. Tommy sat next to him and pulled him into a hug, giving him a supportive squeeze around the shoulders.

"…Thank you." Benrey mumbled, real quiet. 

Tommy gave him a pat on the back. "What's this…" he said, gesturing to him, "…about? Something up? Or just, overstimulated?"

Benrey's quiet for a while again, before clearing his throat. "Yanno. 'S just... Freeman."

Ah. So we're talking about this now. Well, the subject needed breaching at some point. Tommy would've preferred they be a little more sober, but that boat had sailed. "I- I gotcha."

Tommy pulled out his phone, and opened the last picture Gordon had sent him, of Benrey's late night rainbow-hued vent session, and showed it to him.

Benrey squinted in displeasure first at the light of the phone, and then at the image, and planted his face in his hands with a groan before peeking at the screen again through his fingers, grimacing. "You didn't tell him what any of that meant, did you?"

Tommy chuckled and gave him a look. "How would I have even started? This picture doesn't make pitch or where any- any of the jets of colors start and end anywhere near clear enough to without putting a lot more- a lot more effort into further analyzing a gay lightshow mess at two in the morning than I was willing." 

Benrey snorted, then sighed in relief.

Tommy smiled, but put on a stern voice. "Benrey, we've got to get this dealt with, one way- one way or another. What are we doing about this?"

He grimaces, before replying with an acerbic tone, "Whats there to deal with? Can't live with 'im, can't live without 'im, am I right, fellas?"

Tommy gave him a little shake, still holding onto Benrey by his shoulder, before pulling away and clasping his hands together and doing an idle stretch. "I'm serious. I don't know if your…" Tommy struggled for the word through the mild fog of alcohol, "…amorous, feelings'll be returned, but I don't think you two getting along is hopeless."

Benrey's voice rose in a frustrated whine, "I didn't think so either bro, but he wanted me to be the bad guy so bad! You remember how paranoid he was getting about me, even before… you know." Benrey awkwardly mimed a chopping motion on his right forearm, before his voice turned to a grumble and he starts to fiddle uncomfortably with his hat. "He still does even though you guys already fuckin'… won. The sore winner baby."

Tommy scratched at his neck, casting his eyes around the room. "Well, from his perspective at least, I can hardly blame him. We were being hunted, and we were all scared, him especially. Since he's really just, a very regular guy?"

Tommy rethought that statement for a second. "He hadn't really gotten sunk into the weird Black Mesa culture when everything went down, I mean. He probably could've acclimated somewhat if everything hadn't gone all- all topsy. Like a boiling frog or however that- that expression goes."

Tommy looked back at Benrey with a shrug. "But regardless, I think he saw you hanging with those shoulders- soldiers, and then the arm thing happened, and he decided to focus his anger at the situation on you. Mr. Freeman doesn't like when things don't have enough explanation for him to cling to, and you don't like having to explain yourself. It's only natural you'd- you would clash, yanno? But both of you have to budge sometimes."

Tommy squinted for a second. "Wait, why did- why were you hanging around with those soldiers anyway?"

Benrey huffed. "Old PSN buddies. Stopped playing with them when I found out they were like, legit IRL bootboys? Army esports kinds of guys. I don't fuck with that. Also one of them was kinda, uhhhh, clingy. Wasn't about to tell 'em I wasn't into all that when I could avoid being shot at though." Benrey itched idly at the lower half of his face. "Might not be able to kill me in a way that matters but it still fucking…… smarts."

"That's… fair." Tommy replied, then looked at Benrey, still puzzled. "Why didn't you tell Gordon that?"

Benrey pulled his hat down over his eyes with a bitter grumble and continued, flopping against Tommy's shoulder. "I thought it would be funnier. It WAS funnier, at the time. Same way it was funnier to fuck with him a little at first with the whole. Skeleton thing. I didn't waaaant it to poison the vibe so baaaad… Didn't think."

Tommy gave a heavy sigh, furrowing his brow and pinching his nose. Benrey's inhumanity and invulnerability made it pretty difficult for him to recognize at times when he was going too far with a joke of that nature, as things like physical injury and death were very lacking in consequence for him, and, given Black Mesa's cloning and other such projects, for most people around him for much of his life as well. "I- I'm assuming a similar uh, set of circumstances surrounding the whole um, thing, huh? I know you didn't expect… the arm thing would happen, but Gordon, very fairly, took a lot of stuff you said and did way more seriously than you meant it, because he's a regular guy who barely knew you."

Benrey scowled, and said with a pitifully frustrated whine, hugging himself. "We were supposed to be friends, maaaan…"

Tommy smiled, wearily bemused, and gave him another side hug, "I know Benrey, I know."

* * *

Gordon returned home to no obvious sign of Benrey but the light in the kitchen left on and his old security vest still resting on the arm of the couch. He will admit to having looked for him, his lack of presence on the couch had been something that concerned him. He'd really rather have at least an idea of where he was if he could, because Benrey having the element of surprise on his side was never a good thing.

However, as soon as Gordon was beginning to feel he'd exhausted his ideas of where the fuck he was hiding, Tommy came in clutch over text and put his anxiety to rest.

Tommy: heya Mr. Freeman, Benrey's gonna spend the night at mine, we were drinking together and he's feeling a bit sick :(

Gordon: you drink?

Tommy: >:(

Gordon: Hey, I didn't mean anything by that, I just meant I didn't expect it. You're a grown man who can drink if he likes.

Gordon sighed in relief, before something Tommy said nags at him.

Gordon: …Benrey can get sick?

Tommy: Why wouldn't he?

Gordon: I dunno, the invulnerability lead me to believe he'd be like, immune?

Tommy: no more immune than he is to bullets, Mr. Freeman.

Gordon: He. 

Gordon: He is immune to bullets? That was demonstrably the case, Tommy.

Tommy: no no mr. Freeman, hes not immune, he's just durable and he regenerates

Tommy: like deadpool or um, logan wolverine, kind of

Gordon: oh

That… made sense actually. He had always bled when shot, and if Gordon concentrates, he thinks he can recall a few times when Benrey expressed feeling pain in response to being hurt, though it was usually one hell of an underreaction by comparison to the magnitude of the damage it should've dealt. By that logic, it sorta tracks that he'd be able to get sick.

Gordon: well, good to know i guess. night tommy.

Tommy: goodnight mr. freeman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tommy has a nice afternoon and Tommy and Benrey good friend moments :')
> 
> I find a very mild comedy in the idea of Benrey being significantly more able and willing to explain himself more effectively when drunk and miserable than when completely sober and level-headed
> 
> (Red to pink to blue means I hate how much I like you :3c)


	5. Chapter 5

Tommy spent the next morning nursing his hangover- a thankfully mild one by comparison to some Tommy's had, Tommy knew how to pace himself these days- and being a bit jealous of the fact Benrey's ability for rapid recovery applied here enough that he woke up without one at all despite how much more fucked up he'd seemed to be last night.

Sunkist had done an excellent job of prepping breakfast for them all, and when Tommy and Benrey sat down, Sunkist laid down and rested his head in his lap as they ate their french toast in peace.

As Tommy finished his food, he decided to follow up on their talk from last night, now that they're both good and sober.

"So, Benrey. Got any ideas about what to do with the whole thing- what we talked about last night?" Tommy tried, swallowing his last bite and offering the plate to Sunkist to lick clean.

Tommy noticed Benrey startle slightly. "Whuh?"

"What we talked about last night." Tommy repeated plainly, hoping he genuinely just wasn't heard.

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about man." Benrey shrugged.

Tommy groaned and rolled his eyes. "Benrey… dont do this. C'mon."

"Do what, bro?" Benrey replied flatly.

Tommy sighed. "If you don't want to talk about it anymore, or don't have any ideas, fine, but please try to keep it in mind? At least?"

Benrey was quiet long enough that Tommy was nearly about to repeat himself again when Benrey cleared his throat, sniffed and gave him a halfhearted, "…Yeah. Okay." In response.

Benrey took his breakfast dishes to the sink, and Tommy hoped the progress he thought he'd seen last night was actually there as a silence hung between them.

Benrey finally broke it. "…Wanna go play games?"

Tommy sighed in resignation. "Sure. Ever try Stardew Valley?"

* * *

Gordon slept until… at least 11:30. He hadn't bothered to check his clock at all before shambling out of his room to shower, and then to the kitchen for coffee and breakfast like a zombie. Days he wasnt going to visit with Joshie or going to Benrey Class with Professor Coolatta had a certain routine to them.

He'd get up, Benrey would throw him some cheeky comment about his bedhead or one of his pajama shirts- he had a lot of stupid graphic t-shirts lying around from college that were very good for the job, but were admittedly very easy to make fun of as the text on them was very corny in that cringeworthy 'Keep Calm and Carry On,' geeky kind of way- as he made his way through breakfast and Gordon would either ignore it or laugh it off, not awake enough yet to be annoyed. 

Then, after he'd get dressed- or didn't, it was his apartment and he didn't have a job to go into anymore, he could stay in his pajamas all day if he liked, thank you- he'd either head into his home office to spend time playing games on his work computer, or, if he was feeling bold, commandeer the couch and TV from Benrey to binge some show, bitterly aware that doing so would be condemning himself to unwanted commentary from Benrey about his milquetoast taste in television. Gordon refused to justify himself, he will watch mind-numbing cooking reality shows until he was sick to death of sitting still and not even God could make him feel shame for it at this point.

Today felt like more of a games day though, so after getting some breakfast in him, Gordon heads into his office with his coffee and settles down into his chair and starts scrolling through his library of games for something mellow, but nice and goal-oriented, mildly entertained by the click-y noises of his computer mouse's scrollwheel and bouncing his leg until finally settling on the obvious choice after waffling on whether to try something new: Stardew Valley.

Stardew Valley was one of those games where you can sink a lot of time into it even if you're not having 'fun' per se, because the gameplay loop of accomplishing tasks and optimizing things was just kind of satisfying on its own. It was even easier to get sucked in and lose time when you insisted on wearing headphones because the house was too quiet for comfort.

As such, he barely noticed how much time he'd whittled away until he was startled out of his deep focus by the creak of the door behind him and he very nearly fell out of his desk chair before seeing it was just Benrey, leaning on the doorframe, evidently back from Tommy's. Gordon opened a menu to pause the game and took off his headphones and turned to look at him. "Didn't I tell you not to come in here?"

"Ooo, Mr. PC Gamer Freeman, think you're better than the rest of us console boys, do ya? Huh?" Benrey teased, eyes locked on Gordon's computer.

Gordon repeated himself. "I told you not to come in here."

"Didn't. 'm not in there, ya left the door open, lazy boy. Lazy Boy armchair." Benrey replied, gesturing to the lower half of his body- his feet were planted firmly outside the threshold of the room.

Gordon sighed. "I'm not gonna entertain this 'I'm not touching you' technicality shit, just please get out of the doorway."

"If you insist." Benrey replied cheerily, before approaching the desk. Gordon planted his face in his hands with a long-suffering laugh that made Benrey smile.

"I walked right into that one, didn't I? Fuck it, fine." Gordon unplugged his headphones so Benrey could hear the game, and he perks up in recognition.

"Oh, Stardew?"

"Yep. You familiar?" Gordon replied, leaving the menu and continuing to play.

The answer was 'barely' having only played it for the first time this morning at Tommy's, but Benrey was pretty confident he knew enough to fake it. It's just a farming game. "Yeah, 'course. 10,000 hours, bro. Parsnips."

Gordon found this immediately suspect. "...Mhm. Got any favorite characters?"

Benrey answered quickly, throwing the first important seeming character names he remembered from introducing himself around town ingame out there. "Alex. Oh and uh, Elliot."

Gordon seemed satisfied with this, but his expression was still painted with a measure of disbelief. 

Gordon wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't that. "…Huh, didn't think that was your type."

Benrey honestly had no idea what he was talking about, so he resorted to tried and true tactics to irritate Gordon into getting off topic. "Didn't know you were so concerned with my type, bro. What, worried you don't measure up?"

Gordon put up a menu to pause the game again so he could glare at Benrey without wasting precious ingame daylight, and so he could gesture his frustration out. "Oh, so this weird flirting bit ISN'T over yet? You're not done? Is this gonna be a recurring gag with you? I really don't want to have to preface every visitor I get's stay with 'there's nothing between us, he's just an asshole.' Knock it OFF, man."

Benrey was equal parts relieved, annoyed, and confused. He'd noticed- of course he did, Gordon could be oblivious but he wasn't stupid and he paid better attention to things than Benrey usually did- he just thought it was a joke. That he was just trying to fuck with him when he'd started doing that. Most of his most overt flirting attempts HAD been mostly jokes, in fairness, but the fact that none of the genuine feeling behind them seemed to have registered felt like a bit of a shock.

Said shock startled a genuine response out of Benrey, a soft, puzzled "Bit?" accompanied by a few small high pitched black and blue orbs of sweet voice, before he immediately clammed up.

If he tried to swipe away the orbs Freeman would know he was hiding something, and he'd already seen them anyway, so Benrey lets them just hang in the air until they dissolve, hoping Gordon doesn't care to know what they mean.

Gordon looks confused too, for a moment, before continuing, still irritated, but... less so, the edge lost from his voice. "Yeah. Your bit. Cut it out."

Benrey decided the only safe way to respond was to squint and blow a raspberry at him, and barely stopped himself from breathing a sigh of relief when Gordon grunted in annoyance, rolled his eyes and turned back to the game, uncomfortable topic effectively dodged.

Benrey laid down, folded his arms behind his head, and propped his legs up on the desk, earning a scornful glare, but no further comment.

* * *

"I just don't know what to do! I've never met two people more stubbornly dedicated to not getting eachother, between Gordon's refusal to give Benrey any benefit of the doubt and Benrey's insistence on being so… obtuse, about EVERYTHING, I don't know if they'll ever get their stuff together…" Tommy complained, dejectedly sipping a vanilla cola as he reclined in his living room.

"Now Tommy, we can't rush these things! If they do they do, if they don't they don't, but meddling too much won't help anything! Try to give them the tools they need to settle their feud, certainly, but if they still can't, there's not much to be done." Coomer's jolly voice replied, mild connection difficulties making the audio come through a bit compressed over video chat.

"I'm not sure what you two are on about, if those two haven't killed eachother by now, give it a few months and they'll be ENGAGED, " Bubby spat, looking over Coomer's shoulder at the camera. He sneered. "I'd put money on it. I'm not sure why you even care that much that they get along, though."

"Because they're my friends and I'd like to be able to hang out with both of them without having to listen to them argue the whole time?" Tommy replied, confused as to why he even needed to ask, honestly.

Bubby replied matter of factly, "Oh, that's not going to stop either way, I can tell you that much. Those two are going to bicker like an old married couple no matter how their relationship changes. I'd get used to it now if I were you." 

"Ooo, talk of old married couples reminds me. I do need to ask Gordon for his Home Address! We're sending out wedding invites soon!" Coomer suddenly chimed in, taking Bubby's hand in his own and giving him a sweet look, which Bubby returned.

Tommy quirked an eyebrow. "Have you two… mentioned your engagement to Mr. Freeman yet? He hasn't said anything to me about it at all."

At once, both of the old men looked to eachother. "Bubby dear, did you-" "I thought you-" 

Both men blanched. As if summoned by the suddenly-awkward conversation, Tommy's phone vibrated with a new message from Gordon.

Gordon: what's black to blue mean? The pitch was high i think?

Tommy: black and blue like it's bruised means "I'm dazed and confused."

Tommy: btw, call bubby n dr. coomer, they need to talk to you abt something

Gordon: gotcha

* * *

Gordon was sitting in the kitchen, waiting for the pizza he'd ordered for dinner when he'd decided to ask Tommy about Benrey's latest unfamiliar color combo. He kept reminders of different meanings written down in the notes app of his phone for future reference, and double-checking it, he hadn't seen black and blue yet. So, glancing at Benrey lying on the couch, he shot Tommy a message.

Gordon's mind had… kind of locked-on to the awkward moment earlier. He wasn't sure if it was paranoia or just him thinking about Benrey's behavior more in general due to his lessons with Tommy that made the interaction stand out, but whatever it was left a nagging feeling in him he was eager to resolve.

So when Tommy responds, Gordon is almost excited- and then immediately let down when the answer does nothing to clarify things.

Unfortunately, Gordon could already tell what Benrey had been expressing without it. He'd noticed Benrey sounded confused- all this translation managed was to confirm that he felt that way, but it didn't give him anything new to suggest WHY. Why was Benrey confused when Gordon had called his weird flirting a bit? Thats what it was, so where was the confusion coming from?

Gordon's consideration of this is interrupted by the arrival of the pizza guy.

With the transaction complete, delivery guy sufficiently tipped and pepperoni pizza safely left on the kitchen table, Gordon sat down to eat. He'd call Dr. Coomer after.

"Hey, Benrey, pizza's here." Gordon announced at the living room, popping open the box. 

Gordon watched Benrey sit up eagerly and hurry to the table before realizing he might take this the wrong way. "I'm not offering you pizza because I like you, got it? I just can't finish it by myself and if you're going to eat my leftovers anyway-" he gestured accusingly with a folded slice, - "You might as well eat while it's hot. Consider it a reward for being less of a nuisance than you could be."

Benrey made a vague face and shrugged, taking a slice, and then a puzzled look came over his face, and he put the slice back down to squint at the bigger man. "You can't finish a pizza by yourself? What are you, a toddler? Your stomach the size of an uhhhhhhh, acorn? Huh?"

Gordon sneered, folding his pizza slice in half and taking a bite. "I'm gonna hit 30 in 2 and a half years and I don't have the metabolism of a teenager or a college student anymore. That aside, it's also not about capacity, its about restraint and not wanting fucking heartburn," he replied through a mouthful, swallowing as if to punctuate his sentence.

Benrey took a bite of pizza and took a second to process the new information he'd gotten, chewing and swallowing before he spoke, because he wasn't an ANIMAL. Like some people. "You're 27?"

Gordon's expression was tired, but surprisingly resigned, "It's the gray hairs, isn't it? I'm a very stressed person," he sighed, gesturing with his pizza again- part of Benrey REALLY wanted to just chomp on it, because it'd be funny, but he restrained himself because he knew it would shut down the conversation. Gordon was still talking. "-No thanks to it of course, but it was starting to be that way before the resonance cascade."

Benrey had no idea what his hair greying and stress had to do with eachother, but that wasn't even the main point of evidence. "Nah, it was more about you. Y'know. Having a son. And a doctorate."

Gordon deadpanned. "Oh. Well, Joshie's only 3 years old, and I started taking college courses while I was still in public school with this program, so I guess I WAS pretty young when I got my PhD?"

Benrey tried to make sense of the mental math of this. Didn't it take… like 12 years to be a doctor? That would mean Gordon had been HOW old when he started doing college?

Gordon saw Benrey freeze, his head tilting like a confused dog, expression one of dawning horror and his tone as incredulous as his even manner of speech could allow for as he eventually replied, "…And you did THAT to YOURSELF? WILLINGLY? IDIOT?" 

…He honestly couldn't even be mad if he tried, because his college experience was still fresh enough in mind that he could remember feeling the same way in his last year of school about little hapless Gordon Freshman who didn't know what he was getting himself into.

So he nearly choked to death on his pizza laughing instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Benrey attempts to gain zero personal insight into himself and embraces deflection, realizes Gordons pretty young for a dilf, forgets medical doctor school and science doctor school work differently, and nearly kills Gordon again
> 
> Dont question the logistics of Sunkist making french toast, he's the perfect dog, he can figure it out


	6. Chapter 6

It seemed the Science Team would never cease to surprise Gordon, even when acting entirely in character, and he would appreciate if they'd knock it off already.

He hadn't been to a wedding since his brother got hitched, and he'd had a terrible time. Nothing went wrong, he mostly just resented his own loneliness a little too much at the time to really enjoy himself. Between his last painful year of school and his then recently ended longterm relationship, the experience had kind of… stung. Salt in the wound, and all that. Plus he was looking after an infant too, so it wasn't like he could wallow either. He had shit to do. He had to be an adult about those feelings. A very lonely adult.

It was maybe a bit petty and stupid to resent a concept because your last secondhand experience with it was tainted by mostly unrelated, badly timed personal factors, but maybe Gordon wasn't above being a little petty and stupid sometimes. At least he was self aware about it.

…Okay, maybe it wasn't JUST his most recent experience. He was a child of divorce after all. An amicable one, but still. Between that and his and his mother's subsequent move to Massachussets, it had been a very turbulent time in his life. Maybe he just felt weird about big expensive ceremonies dedicated to lasting love which could just be ended with some forms and the pound of a gavel or whatever, and statistically a staggering amount are. Jesus, he'd gotten cynical.

He wasn't nearly as lonely nowadays. He had friends. Real ones, not just colleagues or student peers. It just took him running the fucking GAMUT launched at him straight from the pages of science fiction. And not even serious science fiction either, but like, Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy tier science fiction. The weird, absurdist shit where nothing makes easy clean sense because individual experiences have a limited perspective in the grand scheme of the universe, and shit will just keep HAPPENING, whether you like it or not, whether you understand it or not, so you've just got to learn to roll with it because life doesn't tend to make itself logical.

…This line of thought was a little intense for him to be thinking it because he wasn't super looking forward to his- power-lifter build-having Einstein-looking cyborg who boxed as a hobby and gangly artificial human scientist with teeth like a beartrap and eyes like a mole, mind you- friends getting married because he probably didn't have anything to wear. Also, the idea of the science team all being in the same place at the same time again felt like it would go VERY poorly. Gordon was pretty sure he was above blame for being a little anxious about things getting out of hand.

He couldn't say they were inconsistent- they always pulled some new weird thing out of seemingly nowhere then acted like he was the weird one for not knowing. Genuinely, with how they behaved with eachother during the resonance cascade, how could he have been expected to know they'd been in a relationship for years?

…He might not have expected it, but he certainly believed it. Something about those two did just feel kinda right together. Weirdass freak of nature old men, one a sweet jolly soul with a frightening streak and a brain half-scrambled on cybernetics and wikipedia data and the other an impulsive pyrokinetic asshole who managed to sound half-reasonable every now and then. Like fucked up mad science retiree Bert and Ernie with a mutual addiction to mayhem and violence. It WAS kind of sweet, thinking they'd be able to get married now that Black Mesa wasn't breathing down Bubby's neck.

Regardless, how excited Benrey had been to hear the news… concerned him a little, and he was reminded of this concern by the muffled sound of the sweet voice coming from the living room.

Gordon sat up from bed, definitely not READY for a new day, but one had arrived regardless, so he sits up from bed, cracks his back and shuffles to his bedroom door.

* * *

A wedding…

Benrey had never been to one as a guest before, and honestly never expected to? He'd fantasized about it a little here and there, but he hadn't realistically thought it would ever happen. Until now, it hadn't really occurred to him that he'd have the opportunity now that Black Mesa was no more. So when Dr. Coomer had called Gordon while he'd been making fun of him for not wanting to eat his pizza crusts when he ate frozen waffles straight out of the freezer- where the contradiction was, Benrey had no clue- Benrey was a little giddy, he couldn't lie.

Benrey was... a creature of habit. When he was young, he liked to teleport out of Black Mesa to get a look at the outside world. He never stayed out long or went too far, relatively speaking- he was a kid and he was afraid of getting lost, even if he enjoyed the exploration and there really wasn't anything Black Mesa's employees could do to stop him then. As much of a shithole as it was, Black Mesa was home, and the idea of losing that somehow was… scary. For someone who liked to rile people up so much, he hated making waves if he could help it. But he did see a few things out there that made an impact on him.

One of them was a wedding. Benrey's memory of it was as clear as if it'd happened yesterday. He'd teleported into the nearest suburb to Black Mesa, and IMMEDIATELY sought out shade, because it was hotter than HELL, and found himself in the shadows cast between some houses. Sounds from the backyard of one of them drew his attention, so he crept along the side of that house, and then scrabbled up the fence to peek at what was going on.

He'd seen weddings on television before, then. Always these big, grand things, were everything went wrong but came together in the end, or it didn't matter that it was a mess because it was LOVE, and sometimes that's just how it is. Benrey had thought that was real fuckin' corny. A fat load of theatrics. And he was kind of right- but kind of wrong, too?

He watched over the fence as the quaint little private garden wedding proceeded. There weren't many guests. The heat was fucking unbearable. And the bride tripped going up the aisle to meet her soon-to-be wife- that was a detail that Benrey pocketed at the time, he hadn't seen any weddings on TV where two women got married before- but things kept going, and when the women read their vows, Benrey was moved by the tenderness of it all, so much so he had to consciously keep his mouth from hanging open at the sight so the sweet voice welling in his throat didnt give him away. If he'd fainted, he might not have been sure if it was because of the emotion or heat stroke. He had the warm-fuzzies thinking about it for days.

He felt similarly warm now, ruminating on the oncoming wedding, lying on his back on Gordon's couch, closing his eyes and just letting his sweet voice sing.

* * *

When Gordon noticed the sound of the sweet voice, he was careful to slip out of his room quietly. He pulled out his phone and started recording, learning from his last mistake, and he crept toward the living room, watching Benrey. The colors were warm and vivid and cozy, in gold and burnt orange shades, the orbs gentler glow softly lighting the dim of his apartment better than the weak morning light, and the sound was unearthly and haunting in a way that he didn't just hear, but felt right down to his bones. It wasn't just notes in varying pitch, it was honest to god song.

He was reminded of a time- before Benrey ruined it by being a weird asshole, of course- where he'd found a kind of surreal beauty in the sweet voice, when he'd been given time to appreciate it. Even when he was done recording for future reference and he'd stowed away his phone, Gordon lingered, just… watching, careful not to interrupt or make his presence known.

Benrey finished, with a mellow smile- and Gordon nearly jumped out of his skin when Benrey's eyes opened serenely before immediately locking on him. They froze, just kind of… staring at eachother in silence for what felt like a decade, the bubbles of sweet voice dissolving into nothing.

Gordon finally retreats into the bathroom to continue his morning routine, and Benrey wheezed out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

* * *

The rest of this morning was haunted, Benrey decided. He wasn't worried about Gordon knowing what his voice had meant, he felt no shame in just feeling cozy thinking about love when it had nothing to do with him. It was Gordon's reaction to the whole exchange that stressed him out. For the briefest glimpse- if he'd blinked before looking at Gordon he would've missed it and he still wasn't sure if he was just imagining it or not- he saw a kind of awe in Gordon's expression.

And what was worse, Gordon REFUSED to make eye contact for even half a second for the rest of his morning routine. Silences hung a little too long, and all of Benrey's playful attempts at antagonism were met with a cold shoulder. Well, more of a lukewarm shoulder. He'd respond- but there was no energy in it, like his attention was COMPLETELY elsewhere.

When Benrey loosed sweet voice at breakfast, Gordon's attention was immediately on it, and he jabbed an orb with his finger, popping it and leaving a splat of bright teal on the tablecloth, and watching with a curious expression as it dissolved off both his finger and the cloth, leaving it completely clean. 

Benrey started playing PS3 as Gordon continued his morning, hoping the bizarre energy in the apartment would dissolve as soon as possible, please?

He was caught off guard though, when Gordon sat down on the couch beside him and finally asked, "What even IS the sweet voice, man?"

"I… dunno." Benrey answered honestly, with a weak shrug, unsure where this line of questioning was going. He booted up Elder Scrolls: Oblivion, thinking he'll give it a go today.

Gordon gave him a look of disbelief. "It's literally one of your basic expressions, and you don't know what it is?"

"Nnnnnnnnope." Benrey replied, squinting at him, operating the game menu out of the corner of his eye. "Why?"

"Well for one, if it's hazardous I want to know, and for two, beyond that I really don't." Gordon replied, with an irritation that seemed… affected. He almost sounded disappointed.

Benrey turned back to the game, and saw he'd accidentally selected Load Game rather than New Game. He was about to hit the button to go back, when he saw the character name attached to the saves that came up and froze.

Gordon had stood up to leave, not noticing, but Benrey grabbed his wrist, startling him. He was about to get mad when he saw Benrey pointing at the screen, so he looked. "Yeah? Why am I looking at your Oblivion save?"

Benrey looked at him seriously, "It's not mine. It was here already. And my name's not Ben."

Gordon's face screwed up in confusion, before something seemed to click and he relaxed. "…Oh, don't worry about it. When I first got this game, I was like 13, and I had this imaginary friend from when I was younger that I'd name my saves after someti-"

Then Gordon froze up and looked at Benrey with stark confusion and shock- then stopped with an irritated huff. The look turned to a glare. "Wait. I'm not falling for this."

"Falling for WHAT? I didn't MAKE that." Benrey insisted, tugging on Gordon's sleeve, but he yanked it away.

"Sure, but I know what you were trying to do by showing me, man. I'm NOT falling for it." Gordon rolled his eyes and left, his irritation much more real, leaving Benrey sitting on the couch, feeling hollow.

…Well, at least he knew Gordon remembered too. Even if he still didn't believe him.

* * *

"Um, hi Darnold! I hope you're doing well!" Tommy greeted cheerily over the phone, holding it to his ear with his shoulder as he worked on prepping for dinner, carefully chopping carrots.

Tommy heard the gentle bubble of beakers in the background as he heard the man reply. "Tommy! It's good to hear from you. I'm doing quite well, in spite of the circumstances. Making decent headway… I think." Darnold's voice was mellow, although his confidence wavered slightly describing his progress, and he sounded a little tired.

Tommy perked up, hoped to inject some enthusiasm. "Thats great to hear, Dr. Pepper! I'm sure you'll nail that- the Evil flavor eventually, even with your reduced, um, resources." 

Darnold's voice is still tired, but appreciative. "Thank you for your confidence, Tommy."

"Of course! I didn't just call to talk this time though," Tommy said, pushing aside the carrots with his knife to start on the celery, "I also wanted to ask if you'd like to go to Bubby and Dr. Coomer's wedding! I've got- I've got a plus one invite with your name on it!"

"Oh, a wedding! I could bring refreshments, I've got soda and seltzer… and wine, and soda, I'd love to join you," Darnold's voice brightened, then grew a bit more hesitant. "…Ah, are you certain things won't, er… get out of hand, though?"

"I don't think Bubby and Coomer have- have enough of a guestlist for things to get out of hand, Dr. Pepper. There's um, three people on it and those three people have plus one privileges. It's a pretty- pretty private ceremony." Tommy admitted. Pretty much anyone else either of them might've invited had either died in the resonance cascade or were dead to them, given Bubby couldn't leave Black Mesa and Coomer didn't really have any close still-living family or friends from outside of it, so as much as they'd like to throw a real rager, it would be pretty pointless to. And not even the fun kind of pointless, just the sad kind. It would certainly be a mess- Professor Hell on Earth and Doctor Craves Violence would have it no other way- but it wouldn't be a crowded one.

"That is a relief. I am a bit nervous…" Darnold hummed, just above the growing dinn of bubbling equipment, "But weddings are lovely occasions and I'd be honored to be your plus one, Dr. Coolatta."

Tommy's cheeks flushed a little pink. "Love to- Love to see-! Hear it. Love to hear it. I'm the best man! I've never been one of those before."

"Congrats!"

Tommy smiled, and there was a pleasantly ambient quiet between the two as neither were sure if they should hang up yet, Tommy's phone vibrated at just the right time to startle him, his phone dropping to the floor behind him and the knife slipping just enough to nick his finger.

Tommy retrieves his phone from the floor, and has a sneaking suspicion of who it is before he even opened the text. Not a lot of people had Tommy's number. Gordon had sent him a video of Benrey singing out a lot of shades of gold and oranges.

Tommy: Benrey's just excited abt the wedding, Mr. Freeman, don't worry about it. Hes got the warm fuzzies is all

Gordon: if you're sure, man

Gordon: …no rhyme this time?

Tommy: its orange mr freeman, what do you expect, nothing rhymes with orange

Gordon: door hinge

Tommy: please stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fellas is it gay to start developing a certain amount of scientific fascination with your roommates weirdly pretty alien bullshit orb language
> 
> Also, the idea of Benrey just Really Liking Weddings is smthn i find very cute and is definitely going to feature a bit


	7. Chapter 7

"So, Mr. Freeman, I need you to- to do me a solid, and you probably won't like it. It's nothing bad. It might- might actually be kind of fun! But I don't think you'll be very excited about it..." Tommy began nervously, fiddling with his hat's little propeller.

"Oh, don't worry about it Tommy. I'd be dead a hundred times over if it weren't for you, I can handle a little unpleasantness and I certainly owe you the favor, between that and these lessons."

Tommy continued quickly, "I need you to help Benrey get ready for the wedding. Take him- take him clothes shopping and stuff. I'll pay for it! It's just that I'm the Best Man, and I'm gonna be swamped organizing other stuff in the next couple weeks…"

Gordon did not hide his lack of enthusiasm. "Oh."

"Like- like I said, Mr. Freeman! It could be kind of fun, if-if you're open-minded about it!" Tommy quickly qualified, expecting to hit the brick wall that was Gordon's skepticism, but Gordon just sighed.

"Fine."

"Th-thank you, I'm sure you won't regret it, and I appreciate the help a lot, Mr. Freeman!" Tommy expressed his gratitude, then retreated into the kitchen to get refreshments, breathing a sigh of relief.

"I don't share your confidence, but of course, anything for you man." Gordon replied, the depth of his resignation palpable.

The quiet sat awkwardly between them as Tommy rifled through his collection of soda flavors, trying to figure which he was in the mood for, and what kind Mr. Freeman might like. He hadn't much interest in soda through most of his lessons here, Tommy could kinda get why, but the only other beverages Tommy tended to have on hand were alcoholic, chocolate milk or water from the tap, slightly embarassing, and Gordon was lactose intolerant, so leaning in on the soda it is.

"…Anywho," Tommy awkwardly transitioned, "We should move on to our lesson now."

"Wait, one thing first: I've been meaning to ask something," Gordon started, stretching out in Tommy's armchair, "What's the deal with what the sweet voice can… do?"

"What in particular are you referring to?" Tommy replied curiously, wordlessly offering Gordon a can of lemon soda, which he refused, brandishing a bottled water. Tommy shrugged, cracked it open himself and pounded it as Gordon replied.

"Well, I remember there was that thing you called 'The Song Of DEATH', for one." Gordon said, laying the emphasis on thick, making his concern clear.

Tommy perked up in recognition, crushing the already emptied can, "Oh! When we fought the- the Black Mesa Golem Ape!"

Tommy leaned back a little on one foot, then tossed the crumpled can in the perfect arc through the air to send it soaring into the couchside wastebasket and continued, grabbing a can of a different flavor before joining Gordon in his front living room, "Well uh, thing is with that, Benrey's voice only has those properties when certain- certain criteria are met, so its usually irrelevant. Gen- generally speaking."

"Criteria is a very vague word, Tommy." Gordon stressed, still looking at the wastebasket.

"I know, Mr. Freeman, but it's the only one I got. The notes of my predecessor keeping tabs on Benrey's whole- whole situation were pretty incomplete, when I found them." Tommy sank onto the couch, sitting criss-cross and using his knees as armrests, "Stuff must- must have gotten lost in the shuffle of things after their death, and Benrey doesn't quite know either."

Gordon still found that a bit difficult to believe, but he didn't want to cut in and make Tommy lose steam. This was useful information, he couldn't risk interrupting this train of thought.

"Benrey's- Benrey's voice is very strange, and the exact way it works is kind of- kind of out of my realm of expertise," Tommy replied shyly, before perking up, mildly amused, "Literally! I remember someone describing to- explaining to me that it's nature is such that- such that it usually can't exist for very long, in our- this dimension, at least."

"Hence why it dissolves like that." Gordon replied, thoughtful, resting his chin against his hand.

"Exactly!" Tommy replied, excitement plain to see, "So we don't have a- a surplus of information on what it can do, because it doesn't linger long enough for us to test much without a lot of setup work to keep it around longer, and even then, Benrey doesn't- doesn't seem to really get why, but sometimes even then it doesn't really work, it just kind of- kind of harmlessly splats anyway. It's just kind of a feeling he gets."

"What effects are there? What do you know it can do?"

"Well, there's 'The Song Of Death'," Tommy replied, doing air quotes for comic emphasis, trying to gloss over it a little bit, in hopes Gordon didnt get caught up on it, "Which can near instant- instantaneously liquefy a targeted object. If it works."

Cool! Gordon had already broken into a cold sweat.

Tommy quickly continued, "There's what he can do with teal, the 'cocooning' thing, it's really a bit- bit more- a bit more like spider silk rather than cocoon fibre?"

"Why was he… doing that, anyway?" Gordon asked, a little terrified of the answer.

Tommy shrugged. "I've asked and he seemed just as confused as I was about it."

REASSURING.

Noticing Gordon's escalating distress, Tommy tried to move on, "Then- then there's the deep blue thing! The 'chill out' thing. That one you know, I'm sure?"

"You mean the one he used to TRANQUILIZE me? Tommy, these are making Benrey sound like some kind of alien apex predator."

Tommy sighed, refusing to humor Gordon's panic and choosing to restrain himself from mentioning Benrey technically IS an obligate hypercarnivore, as it would only stress Gordon out worse, despite the fact the same is true of the domestic housecat.

"Tranquilized is- is a super wrong word for it Mr. Freeman. I think you know that? It's kinda… psychological. It's kind of like hypnosis, how it only works if- if you think it will, but without the- the suggestibility?"

Gordon raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Only works if I think it will…?"

"Or want it to!" Tommy added helpfully. "It's very helpful for de-stressing. All it does is relax and focus you, like- like meditation, but faster and less boring."

"Huh." That... tracks actually. Gordon could remember distinctly getting a strange feeling, a few of the times, but not actually feeling the weird relaxing effect he'd experienced other times. Usually when he was too pissed at Benrey to want to relax. A… weirdly benign one then, amid the others. "What else?"

"That's actually… about it, Mr. Freeman."

"Excuse me?" Gordon looked at Tommy incredulously, "They seriously only did enough experimenting to figure out three functions when there's an entire spectrum of colors? Dr. Coomer said something about a healing beam!"

"Yeah," Tommy replied, resigned, "There were some- some tries at it, but apparently Benrey stopped being cooperative and, given one of those- one of his abilities was called the 'Song Of Death,' nobody was- nobody was chomping at the bit to try and convince him. And Coomer didn't work in my department, I think he was probably just guessing?"

Gordon closed his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh, contemplative. "…Jesus."

The silence between them went on for what felt like a decade before Tommy finally said something.

"…Wanna get back to the colors, Mr. Freeman?"

"…Yeah."

* * *

Benrey is startled slightly when Gordon reenters the apartment, having been deeply immersed in his past many hours of playing Oblivion, so much so he'd barely realized how late it had gotten. He pauses the game to stretch, and turns to greet Gordon.

In his tunnel-vision focus on the game, he'd neglected to notice it had started to storm, and so he wasn't exactly prepared to see a drenched Gordon, just fuming. He forced his mouth shut, but couldn't peel his eyes away.

"Hey, Benrey. God, fuck this weather." Gordon griped, putting a bag he was toting- more leftovers from Tommy's, Benrey guessed- on the table, alongside a dry folder he'd clearly shielded with his body. "I moved back from Massachussets to GET AWAY from this kind of rain. Felt like it was every other goddamn day with the fucking rain there. Awful."

Gordon undid his ponytail to try to wring some water out of his mane, and if Gordon kept talking, Benrey did not hear it. His brain was a bit of a skipping record right now? Just a whole lot of unhelpful static and nothing.

Benrey would've been a little thankful for the power going out if it werent for how Gordon reacted to it. 

Gordon made a fearful noise, halfway between a whimper and a yelp, and Benrey, his eyes adjusting faster to the light change than Gordon's human ones, saw him bump against a kitchen chair and his breath hitched before he recognized what it was, and he started leaning on it.

Benrey kept his voice level, but he was certainly concerned. "I'm gonna get-"

Gordon flinched at the sound of Benrey's voice, and Benrey's heart sank into his gut to boil in the guilt that pooled there.

Benrey tried to speak again, a little quieter, but a few small orbs of sweet voice- caramel and white- slipped out instead, with a low and humming note.

Gordon's eyes locked on it, and his tone was almost pleading in a way that only made Benrey feel worse when he spoke, his voice wavering slightly. "Keep- Just keep doing that. Please. At least until I can get a flashlight."

Benrey complied, singing out a few more of the glowing orbs to cast their light, before reaching over to his security vest to retrieve his own flashlight, clicking it on and offering it to Gordon.

Gordon breathed a sigh of relief, and stood quietly for moment. Finally, his voice was shaky… but also distant, and thoughtful, when he finally spoke again. "...Thanks."

Benrey gave him an awkward thumbs up, unsure of what to say, if anything.

Gordon dug his own flashlight out of the closet using Benrey's and then returned it to him, refusing to look at his face, brow furrowed, deep in thought.

"I, uh, brought leftovers again. Help yourself. I guess. I'm... gonna go sit in my room for a bit. Here's hoping the electric comes back on fast." Gordon said, clearing his throat with a cough and leaving Benrey to the melancholic atmosphere left in the apartment.

Benrey didn't have much of an appetite, but having lost the comfort of games to the lack of electricity, he went to eat anyway. He didn't really need his flashlight- he could see fine in the dark, but he left it on anyway, hoping it'd give Gordon a little peace of mind.

* * *

Gordon meant to sit and cool down, but anxious energy left him pacing. Since WHEN was BENREY considerate like that? If they were back in Black Mesa, Benrey'd probably call him an idiot baby for being afraid of the dark. This guy tried to kill him. This guy DID get his arm cut the fuck off! What WAS this?

Gordon clenched and unclenched his fist on his reattached arm, irritated by how it shook. Was this some kind of ploy? To get his guard down? Regain trust? Couldn't be, he had too many opportunities to put the knife in his back he hadn't taken. Some kind of weird 4th dimensional chess level attempt at mockery? Also unlikely, Benrey probably hasnt thought ahead about what he wanted to do by more than a few hours in the entire time Gordon's known him, and he tended to stick to playground nonsense anyway. Pity? Did Benrey feel pity for anything?

…Brown and white! Benrey's voice had been brown and white, with a low pitch… he should just ask Tommy what that meant, that should clear this up!

Gordon: hey tommy, what's caramel brown to white mean

Gordon: low pitch

Gordon waited with bated breath, bouncing one leg impatiently for what felt like an hour. What the hell could brown and white mean? A lot of stuff rhymes with white- but then, it didn't necessarily HAVE to rhyme, it just usually did for mnemonics sake…

His phone vibrates. An answer, finally!

Tommy: Brown and white like a skewbald horse means 'I'm saddled with remorse'

Oh.

_Oh._

* * *

After dinner, Benrey had returned to the couch to try to sleep, hoping the electricity would be back on by morning, but the creak of Gordon's door caught his attention. 

Gordon shuffled from his room, looking about as disheveled as Benrey would expect, given how rattled he'd seemed, his blanket still around draped over his shoulders like a cape and still carrying his flashlight. For a long moment, the two just kind of… stared, at eachother. Benrey wondering what Gordon had come out for, and Gordon unsure if he should say.

Finally, Gordon sighed and went for it, voice tense. "The… the blue thing. The thing you can do with the blue sweet voice. The relaxing thing. Can you… do it?"

Benrey's eyes widened in surprise and he sat up to look at Gordon.

"NOT-" Gordon qualified, irritable and tired, but pleading, "-By spitting it in my _mouth_ , that is. I can't... I just can't relax enough to sleep. If you can help me- WITHOUT making it… weird- I'd… really, really appreciate it."

"Uhhhhh… ok. I can. Try?" Benrey replies, unsure of himself, but he scoots over on the couch to make room.

Gordon hesitantly takes a seat, setting his still-on flashlight on the floor, avoiding looking at Benrey directly. Benrey is careful not to intrude on his personal space bubble, unsure what would push it and 'make things weird' for Gordon in this sudden, strangely vulnerable moment.

Benrey curls into a ball, hugging his legs, looks over at Gordon, and starts to sing in that deep blue, orbs floating gently upward, their dark blue light cast on the both of them.

The effect hit faster than Gordon expected, he could feel the tension leaking away, and he took a nice deep breath and relaxed with a relieved sigh.

"It… work?" Benrey said carefully, fiddling with the earflaps on his hat.

Gordon snorted, then replied wearily, giving Benrey a snarky clap on the shoulder. "…Yeah, Benrey. 'It work'. Gordon calm now."

Benrey nodded, and watched Gordon. Searching for some kind of indication of what he should do.

Gordon started, itching at his scalp, "So, I… talked to Tommy, and I need to talk to you about two things we talked about."

Benrey squinted, his anxiety shooting through the roof, unsure what Tommy mightve said. "…Yeah?" 

Gordon looked at Benrey, brow furrowed, waiting for something. "Yeah. He told me what brown and white means. Do you have something… you want to say to me?"

Benrey grimaced uncomfortably. "Oh. Yeah. Just wasn't… wasn't sure how to. Bring it up. Kinda didn't… want to. Feels bad."

"I mean yeah, I'd hope so," Gordon replied with a slight sneer, "That's how guilt's supposed to feel."

"Not what I meant. Didn't wanna…" Benrey struggles for a way to put what he meant, "…make things bad again. 'tween us," is what he settles on.

"Oh." Gordon replies simply, expression pensive.

Benrey clears his throat, and picks up the Playstation controller on the floor to fiddle with the joysticks while he talked. "Should've. Should've said sorry earlier. But. Sorry. For. You know. Fucked up. My bad."

Gordon sighed heavily. "Not sure if I forgive you, considering, but I appreciate that you apologized," He crossed his arms and leaned back on the couch, idly rubbing where his arm had been reattached, "…And I appreciate your help, even if I wouldn't need it in the first place if it weren't for you."

Benrey mumbled out a quiet, reflective, "No problem."

Gordon threw an arm around Benrey's shoulder, startling him, and gave him a casual little squeeze, before getting up, leaving his blanket on the couch. "Thanks. The other thing Tommy wanted to tell you," Gordon said, picking up his flashlight, "-Was that he can't take you clothes shopping for the wedding, so he asked me to take you instead. So I guess that's. Something we're doing. Some time this week or next, probably."

"Oh. Sick." Benrey replied weakly, still reeling a little bit from the mild affection expressed. This has gotten… pretty bad. It was a sidehug for god's sake, get your shit together, Benrey.

"We're not gonna do anything crazy, ok? We're not, okay? That shit has consequences out here." Gordon sternly added, and Benrey honestly barely understood why. It was a fucking clothing store, what would either of them even do? Gordon's the only thief here, so what was he expecting?

"Gotcha. I'll keep an eye on you." He replied, gesturing accordingly.

Gordon huffed and rolled his eyes. "Goodnight, Benrey."

"G'nite," Benrey sent back, "Sleep tight, Gordo."

Gordon never came back for the blanket, so Benrey bundled up and went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tommy, internally: Benrey is a fascinating marvel of xenobiology that largely defies explanation but Gordon seems like the kind of person who would freak out if I told him deer eat baby birds when they fall out of the nest sometimes so I think I'll spare the details because I'd prefer that he LIKE the guy, yanno?
> 
> Also, gordon freeman fucked up and vulnerable moments


	8. Chapter 8

Gordon slept better than he had in WEEKS last night, and he wasn't going to lie, he was a little mad about it. Last night was… embarrassing, and more than a little bit confusing. Benrey suddenly developing enough of a conscience to feel bad about getting his arm chopped off was weird enough, but even weirder was the idea he hadn't expressed as much because he didn't want to hurt their relationship, as characteristically back-asswards and childish as the sentiment was. If they didn't talk about it, it's not like it would've just gone away- AND they had no positive relationship for it to hurt, even if Benrey had been behaving remarkably less unhinged lately.

Gordon's morning musings were interrupted by his sharp and irritating ringtone. He really should change it, or at least turn it down, but fuck if it didn't consistently get his attention. Hard to miss, and hard to lose his phone very long if it's horrible digital shrieking gave it's position away so well. He reached for his phone, not bothering to check who was calling in the bleary, sleepy haze of his barely awake brain.

"HELLO GORDON!" blared in his ear like an airhorn.

Well, he was definitely more awake now, at least. "Hiya, Dr. Coomer. What's got you calling so early?"

"…Early, Gordon? It's 9:32 AM, Mountain Standard Time." Coomer replied, puzzled.

"You don't have to specify the timezone, we live in the same state-" Gordon tried, sitting up.

"That's besides the point, lazyass," Gordon heard Bubby cut in, Coomer clearly having his end on speakerphone, "It's barely over 2 hours to noon and you're still in bed."

Gordon snorted, "Well, that's because I'm not a senior citizen who wakes up at 6 AM for early bird specials at Denny's. And I never said I'm in bed, Bubby."

"Well then you're lazy AND financially irresponsible." Bubby retorts, "Hardly see how that's supposed to be better. And I can tell from how you sound that this is clearly the first time you've SPOKEN today, and with Benrey hanging around yours, that'd hardly be possible if you WEREN'T just getting up now."

Gordon deliberately ignores this salient point, unable to argue. "Why were you calling, anyway?"

"Well Gordon, we were wondering if you would like your boy to have a part in the wedding! I realized I neglected to ask when we announced our engagement!" Dr. Coomer chirped, "We do still need a flowerboy! Or a ringbearer! I'd like to meet little Joshua one of these days!"

Oh. Hm.

Gordon was… a little terrified of the idea of Joshie within a 100 feet of the event, if he was honest. Not because he didn't trust the science team- he loved them dearly- but good god, it was anxiety-inducing enough that they were all gonna be in one place again. It made him feel like SOMETHING was bound to happen, and they were all gonna be stuck having to fight to survive all over again.

He was quiet for a little too long, it seems, because Dr. Coomer chimed again. "I'd like to meet little Joshua one of these days!"

Bubby helpfully added, "It's not like we're inviting you to bring your toddler to a mosh pit, Gordon, it's a fucking wedding."

Gordon sighed. Bubby was probably right. To an extent. The team could get a little unpredictable. But the party at the Chuck E. Cheese had gone fine, if a little more high energy than an adult party at a family restaurant normally would be. Gordon assumes, at least. He'd never actually been to one before.

"Yeah… yeah. I'll talk to Joshie later today and see if he likes the idea, okay?" Gordon finally replied, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"That sounds wonderful, Gordon!"

"Not sure why you need to consult a toddler, but fine, I guess."

* * *

Tommy was already feeling the panic set in. He wasn't sure he was good at this whole business. He was a confident person, but keeping a story straight was not a skill he'd ever needed to cultivate. How to do this…

Maybe he should cancel some of his lessons with Gordon? That would make it more convincing that he was too busy with wedding stuff- but maybe that would be overselling it. It also might be counterproductive to the point of this lie in the first place! 

He wanted Gordon and Benrey to get to a place of understanding after all, and just spending time alone together clearly wasn't doing the trick on it's own. Tommy figured they might benefit from some kind of bonding activity. Gordon hadn't been spending a lot of time at home between his lessons and visiting his son, had he? So they probably haven't been spending much time together…

Tommy contemplated miserably, waffling over how to handle what he'd gotten himself into while he munched his way through his breakfast.

"Hello… Tommy."

Tommy's attention is stolen by his father's greeting. 

"Oh, uh, hi dad." Tommy replied, halfheartedly.

"Is something upsetting you, my… son?" The G-man asked pleasantly, seeming excited for the opportunity to provide comfort.

"Well..." Tommy considered whether or not to confide in his father. On one hand, he really WOULD like the help from someone who knew not to spill the beans and wouldn't- but on the other his father's idea of helping could be… a little extreme. He was trying to be supportive, Tommy recognized that, but he clearly didn't have the frame of reference for what was too much if it accomplished the end goal one way or the other. Ostentatiously pragmatic. Maybe he should give him a chance though.

He started again. "Well… two of my friends are fighting all the time, and I just- I just want them to get along, is all."

"I… see. Would you like me to… talk to them?" G-man offered, and Tommy quickly shook his head.

"N-no, I'm just wanting- looking for advice, on handling it myself," Tommy replied, taking a sip of carbonated ice coffee, "I just don't know if I'm doing the right thing…"

"Well I am… all ears, son." G-man replied, taking a seat across from Tommy, hands politely folded together as he sat stiffly across the table from him, like this interaction was a job interview.

"I uh, I've been doing a bit of… lying by omission, to get them to spend- spend more time together, in hopes they can figure eachother out and- and stop grating on eachother so much, but I feel so bad for misleading them… Benrey and Mr. Freeman trust me, and I could hurt that if they found out…"

The G-man's face was perfectly serene until the namedrop, at which his face fell a little. "Ah… well, you would know much better than I, how to handle… Benrey, but as intelligent as Mr. Freeman is… he isn't one to interrogate things he trusts as long as they are logically consistent from his… perspective, so I am sure that as long as you keep your… narrative, uncomplicated, you should have, no issue, going forward."

Tommy fiddled with the straw in his drink, looking across the table at G-man. "I- I knew that, already. I just don't know if- if I should be lying in the first place."

The G-man twiddles his thumbs, giving a measured reply, "Ah. Well, Tommy… it's a bit late for that, hm? Either you tell them now, and mitigate the lost trust… they find out later, and you must regain a greater loss of trust from not coming clean, or you continue the ruse carefully until it's become old news, enough so that… you can come clean and noone will care anymore."

Tommy folded his hands in front of his face to hide his frown. Well. He wasn't WRONG, exactly, but Tommy was pretty sure that wasn't the most ethically sound justification for lying to his friends.

"Perhaps they'll even find the whole thing... funny, eventually." The G-man added gently, "What did you tell them?"

"Well, so far, I've only said Benrey can't stay with us here because you didn't- didn't want him here. Benrey knows about that one, he put me up to it- and that I was going to be too busy helping Dr. Coomer and Bubby with the wedding to take Benrey clothes shopping for it."

"Simple AND elegant! You are… a natural. You'd do well in the… family business. No complete lies are present in that, only…" G-man said, close to beaming with pride, "Truth, deftly woven, to suit your… needs."

Tommy chuckled in confusion and disbelief. "I don't know how I feel about being praised for- for manipulating people-"

"It is a, talent, like any other, son, and all talents have… contexts, in which they can be… useful, and celebrated." G-man replied supportively, standing and approaching Tommy, "And wanting your friends to… get along, is a noble pursuit. I'm proud of you. However, I must be going now. Work calls."

G-man gives Tommy an affectionate, if stiff and awkward, fatherly pat on the head with his free hand as he passes him, and he's disappeared completely before Tommy can turn around and ask any follow-up questions. Tommy's starting to think he just does that when he's not sure what else to say. Tommy was, admittedly a little jealous. Having some kind of superpowered alien being for a dad and having, functionally at least, inherited just about nothing but a resemblance and good eyes was a bit of a shame, honestly.

Sunkist, parked firmly beside him, set his head down in his lap and huffed sympathetically, and Tommy smiled, and returned to his breakfast with a sigh.

* * *

The smell of bacon and eggs managed to rouse Benrey from his deep, deep sleep.

He'd dreamt about something that made him feel warm, yet hollow, but once he tried to recall it, it slipped away, leaving him mostly just a bit irritated.

Benrey sat up, still wrapped tight in the blanket Gordon had left him last night, and that's how he stayed, wearing the blanket like some kind of wizard's robe as he trudged sleepily into the kitchen to ask Gordon if the power's back on. This is why Benrey skipped out on sleep so much- it might feel nice and it was useful for passing time, but god, waking up was such a HASSLE. A complete fuckin' ORDEAL. Plus, why sleep when he could be doing much more important things, like figuring out how to break out of bounds in every video game Gordon owns?

Gordon stifled a snort when he saw him come in- presumably because he looked like a disheveled young collegiate Merlin who'd just gotten his first sleep after days of pulling all-night study sessions, silently cursing the existence of daylight- and then casually offered a plate of food. When no justification came from Gordon, Benrey was too foggy-brained and bleary-eyed to question it, so he just sat down, croaked a "Thank you," and started gratefully shoveling fried eggs in his mouth.

"Coffee?" Gordon offered, still amused by Benrey's state. Damn, he must look like he's just gotten done with being in a coma and he was, frankly, down for another right about now.

"Please? Shitty wakeup beans juice for me? Please?" He whined, and Gordon casually provided with a snort.

It took some time, and the caffeine kicking in, for the bizarre domesticity of it all to register in both their brains, it seemed, because at some point during the quiet ensuing breakfast, (…Brunch? It was nearly noon,) a shift happened as the sleepy morning atmosphere slipped away, as if some pointless and unspoken truce had dissolved and things were back to normal.

"Consider the breakfast as a thank you for last night, I don't want to feel indebted to you. Besides, I'm used to making extra for Joshie." Gordon rationalized, clearly as a post hoc explanation for plain ol' hospitality. Benrey was almost relieved.

"…Speaking of which, I need to talk to you about something." Gordon started between sips of his coffee, tone serious.

"We uh… didn't we talk last night?" Benrey replied, punctuating his thought with a nervous sip of his own drink.

"This isn't about that." Gordon dismissed, and Benrey's anxiety spiked. Oh jeez, what now?

Gordon took a deep breath. "How much do you know about kids?"

Benrey was so thrown off by the question he couldn't think of any response except the honest one. "Haven't… really been around any since I, uh. Was one of those. Black Mesa didn't exactly have 'take your kid to work' day. Why?"

Gordon sighed. "Bubby and Dr. Coomer want Joshua to come to the wedding. I haven't decided if I want to take him for sure yet," he qualified, itching at his goatee, "But if he's going, I'm gonna have to take him with us to get clothes, and it means you're going to have to meet him."

"Oh. Curveball." Benrey muttered, letting the black and blue sweet voice float freely from his mouth, unashamed of his absolute bewilderment.

"Yeah, yeah. I can't believe I'm considering it either," Gordon griped, "But regardless, I want to set some ground rules ahead of time in case I actually agree to this."

Benrey sipped his coffee, following this line of thought well enough, "Gotcha."

"First off, don't say any weird shit around my kid. None of your weird fucking flirting thing, don't bring up shit about Black Mesa. Don't tell my kid he 'looks a bit shit'. I hope the rest is common enough sense I don't need to list it off to you."

Benrey nodded along. He felt a little bad at the reference to his first comment about Gordon's son- he'd kind of panicked when he'd been told Gordon had a kid, and some part of his brain had stalled. He had meant to make a snarky comment on the poor quality of the picture- but he obviously hadn't been clear enough, and he thought it was way too fucking funny what Gordon thought he'd meant to correct him at the time. A little late to get him to believe that NOW, though.

"Second, at least TRY not to swear, okay?" Gordon added, sounding a bit more exasperated.

Benrey quirked an eyebrow. "How come?"

"Because some people assume you're a bad parent if your kid swears, and I don't want you being a bad influence in that department?" Gordon replied, deadpan, "Especially since Joshie's going into preschool next year. If he says something in school I will never hear the end of it."

Benrey squinted. Gordon should probably be more concerned about himself in that regard. Benrey could stop whenever he wanted. But whatever. "…Gotcha, I guess."

"Good. I'll let you know if I think of anything else." Gordon replied, standing up, finishing his coffee, and returning to his room to get ready for today's visit with Joshie, leaving Benrey at the table to reel over this by himself.

He was going to get to meet Gordon's kid. FUCK, that was a surreal concept. 

Before meeting him in Black Mesa and going through that whole… rigamarole, the last time he'd seen Gordon was when THEY were kids.

God, things were so… uncomplicated, then. At least compared to now. Benrey tried not to reminisce- but it was bittersweet in a nice way, sometimes. At least if he ignored the fact Gordon apparently thought he imagined it entirely.

Lil' Benrey had decided to have another ill-advised adventure away from Black Mesa, and found a family campground by a creek, and Gordon had unknowingly stumbled upon him as it started to get dark, sitting by the water alone, watching the little fish in the shallows- minnows or something, Benrey didn't know shit about fish, then OR now. Guppies, maybe?

Gordon had stepped on a stick or some crunchy leaves, something that caught Benrey's attention, so he turned to look at him. He was gathering sticks, and hadn't noticed him yet, so he decided to play a little prank on him. He ruffled his hair to make it look a mess- he had a bit of mane at the time, roughly midback length hair that tended to stick up in odd places, so making it look like a rats nest real quick wasn't hard. A shadow fell over his eyes and he bared his sharp little baby teeth, and charged at Gordon with a child's imitation of a snarl in an attempt to scare him.

…And then he tripped and ate shit, landing face down in the litter of fallen leaves, managing to startle him at best.

Benrey wasn't NEARLY as used to injury as he was by now, so he tried to play it tough, but he definitely started to cry a little when Gordon helped him up. Gordon was still a lot more alarmed about his injuries than he was. He lectured him about being more careful, fussing over his wellbeing despite not needing to- The more things change, the more they stay the same- wiping his scrapes clean of blood and dirt with his stinging baby wipes. 

Benrey sat still and received several little bandaids, with little aliens on them, happily taking them like stickers. Gordon had ones with Pikachu on them in his backpack too, but Benrey had rejected them, having firmly taken Digimon's side in that particular playground culture war. In retrospect, most of Benrey's chosen cultural battles were losing ones. He liked an underdog.

When Gordon left to tell his parents what happened, to explain why he'd been gone so long, thats when he'd gotten cold feet. Benrey scrabbled up a tree out of sight and then teleported home.

But he came back the next day, hoping to see him again. And he did. 

Gordon was mad at first that he'd left, but he seemed to understand whatever excuse Benrey had given him for being afraid. He couldn't remember. Thats when they finally actually gave eachother their names. And then made fun of eachothers names. Seriously, Benrey couldn't have thought of a more on the nose surname he could've had than _Freeman,_ and Gordon found Benrey's LACK of a surname absurd.

Benrey came back for a few hours every day, always leaving right when other people showed up. Curiosity and wanting to see Gordon didn't make him any less afraid of what being discovered by an adult might bring. So he'd wait, sitting up high in his tree, watching the creek 'til Gordon came alone.

He remembers a lot of little bits and pieces from those weeks he knew Gordon. Swimming in the river and flinging creek mud at eachother, trying to dunk eachother in the water, playfighting with sticks. Arguing over favorite movies- his at the time had been Little Monsters, and Gordon's had been E.T: The Extra Terrestrial. His first proper sand castle was a disaster, but it WAS his first, and coarse river sand just didn't quite pack right for it, and it scratched up his hands trying, but he hadn't cared much.

And then Gordon came down to the river to cry by himself because his parents were gonna be getting divorced, and Benrey didn't know how to cope with THAT shit like a human being just, at ALL. He tried- he'd sat right down next to him on that log by the creek and heard him out, but he was beyond stumped on how to help with words.

So he told Gordon he had an idea to make him feel better. He just made him promise not to look when he did it. It was embarrassing, he said. And he sang.

Ah, shit. Something's in his eyes now.

Benrey ducked into the bathroom to hide JUST in time for Gordon to gripe about it.

"Ugh, are you gonna be long? I need to use the shower."

Benrey ran the faucet and splashed a little cool water in his face, and glared at his reflection for a moment, then took a deep breath to compose himself and reply evenly, "Should'a thought about that before spending 25 minutes picking an outfit, Snailman."

Benrey could practically hear him roll his eyes, "Whatever, just please hurry up?"

"…You got it, Gordon." Benrey sighed. Moving in here was a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> G-man's just trying to be supportive but Tommy continues to be Just So Tired
> 
> Young Gordon: *has a very weird slightly feral seeming friend for just a few weeks while on the very same camping trip his parents took to break the news gently to him and his brother that they were getting divorced, who could climb and balance like a lemur, had an otherworldly singing voice, a constantly shadowed face, sharp teeth and always seemed to disappear right when anyone else might get to see him while he was in elementary school and briefly obsessed with the movie E.T.*
> 
> Older Gordon: Oh, there is literally NO way in HELL that WASN'T something I imagined as a coping mechanism,
> 
> Disclaimer: i have never actually seen little monsters the synopsis on wikipedia just makes it sound like just the right kind of weird kids movie that I think a little benrey would be into


	9. Chapter 9

"Benrey," Tommy spoke over the phone, completely exasperated, "What do you mean 'moving in with Gordon was a mistake'? Did something happen?"

"Nothing happened, chill, just realized this was a bad idea and I wanna bail," Benrey's tone was a bit too even. Overly composed. Tommy could tell there was something he wasn't saying.

"Bail how, Benrey? Bail- bail where? You bribed me to lie to Mr. Freeman about you not being able to come here so you could stay there," Tommy protested, "I can't just take that back without- without consequences! Mr. Freeman's gonna know we both lied!"

Benrey cleared his throat uncomfortably, but didn't reply.

"...Plus, my dad actually doesn't seem to want you around, god knows why." Tommy added, running his free hand up into his short curly hair in frustration.

"He can join the fuckin' club then, rather deal with him than Gordon." Benrey retorted bitterly, and Tommy picked up on the faintest hint of a crack in his voice.

"Why?" Tommy asked, stern, but softer now. Remembering last night's translation request, knowing Gordon knew now about Benrey's remorse, he continued, hoping the two were making progress, "Seriously, Benrey. Mr. Freeman was hurt by what you did, but he forgave Bubby and Bubby would hardly admit he REGRETTED it. You shouldn't just run away right when it- when you're getting down to- down to business."

"…It's not. About that." Benrey grumbled in response.

"So you admit it is ABOUT something?"

Benrey went very quiet, and Tommy knew he'd caught him.

After a prolonged silence, Benrey finally sighs. "…Can I come stay over yours or not, man?"

Tommy's face fell. He loved Benrey like a brother, but good god he really could be so stubborn sometimes. Something he and Mr. Freeman had in common, really, though Gordon was a bit less so depending on the circumstances- a social development perk of being a normal human who couldn't afford to be so stubborn you could literally die without actually backing down like Benrey could.

Tommy furrowed his brow, and decided to be a little stubborn too. "You know what, Benrey? No."

Benrey's response was delayed, and when it finally came, his voice got across that he was absolutely baffled. "…huh?"

"No. Especially not if you don't tell me what this is about! I'm putting my foot down. I'm gonna be- be like an immovable- immobile object on this." Tommy huffed. "Talk to somebody. You got yourself into this, and I'm not gonna enable you to- to just back out- and- and make a bigger mess of things because you're upset, Benrey! I'm here for you if you- if you need me, but if you want things to get better between you and Gordon, you're going to have to deal with this."

"Tommy-"

"No excuses. Unless you're planning on opening up to me about this, I've got- I've got a Best Man speech to write."

Benrey sighed, and when he spoke again it was a frustrated groan, tinged with guilt. "…'kay. Fine. Bye."

Tommy stayed firm, despite his surprise at how quickly Benrey relented. "Thank you. Bye, Benrey."

Benrey hung up, and Tommy felt himself rapidly wilt like a cut flower in the sun. Tommy couldn't say he didn't get where Benrey was coming from- uncomfortable important conversations were draining and awful! He'd just had one! He knew from experience! But they needed to happen regardless.

…Tommy still felt a little guilty even if he WAS pretty sure he was in the right on this. He couldn't pinpoint a way that he'd been too harsh, sure, but it certainly felt like he had. Might have to do with how fast Benrey gave up- maybe Benrey recognized he shouldn't bail, but was looking for an excuse to and when Tommy didn't give him one he just… accepted it?

Tommy had only just managed to decompress from his last phone call, sitting with his feet up with a tall bottle of Pineapple Sunkist™ with his dog of the same name's comically large body draped over him like a blanket and starting to do some brainstorming for his speech when he got another call.

Darnold sounded very self-satisfied. "Tommy, I think I've done it! I believe I've successfully isolated the Evil™ powerade flavoring, you should come over, I'd appreciate your help with a taste test!"

…The speech could wait, Tommy was too curious.

"I'll be right on over!"

* * *

"…Dad, when can I come home?"

Gordon had just been minding his own business, visiting and reading a kid's book with Joshua and his favorite plush toy, (a buckskin horse with gangly limbs, brushable hair, uneven beady black plastic eyes and a little pink bandana, that looked just a bit… uncanny, to Gordon, but Joshie ADORED the thing,) when his kiddo, god bless him, came out of nowhere and decided to smack him in the face with that question.

Gordon gave a tired little huff. "…Well, kiddo, I actually needed to talk to you about that. Thanks for reminding me." He gently pinched Joshie's chubby little cheek affectionately, and snorted and smiled when he pouted back at him.

"Your dad's going to a wedding, and… if everything goes well, you'll be coming home real soon," Gordon explained, "But right now, someone's staying with me at our house. He's-"

"He better not be sleeping in my room!" Joshua interrupted, with all the indignance he could muster in his tiny body.

Gordon feigned offense, "Of course not, little buddy! I'd never let anybody in there without your permission. He's been sleeping on the couch."

"Okay…" Joshie replied, briefly satisfied, but then he made a face and looked up at Gordon curiously. "Why's he staying there?"

"He's got nowhere else to go, so your dad took him in for now," Gordon gently explains, before being spoken over.

"So, he's like... a stray?"

Gordon held back a snort at that comment to try and gently scold him, "Joshie, it's rude to-

"How come you can bring home a stray GUY but we can't get a CAT!? You don't make ANY sense." Joshie interrupts yet again, with an adorable pout, and Gordon can't help but laugh. It's not like Joshie was wrong to see something a little weird about that, from his perspective.

Gordon decided to tease, though. He grinned mischievously, quickly set aside the book they'd been reading and raised his now free hand, wiggling his fingers as if poised to steal Joshie's toy, "Oh, is Cashew not enough for you? I could take her if you wanna trade her in for a cat."

Joshie hugged the plush horse tight like his life depended on it, leaning away from Gordon's playfully menacing hand. "No!"

"'No,' Cashew's not enough, or 'No,' you don't want a cat?" Gordon playfully feigned confusion, creeping his hand a little closer.

"NO!" Joshua cried out dramatically, and Gordon went in for the kill- scooping him up into a hug, and blowing a raspberry on his squirming toddlers' cheek until he giggles.

His cruel and treacherous toddler forces him to relent however, by suddenly yanking his hair, (very hard! The strength of the toddler's grip surprised him more than his lack of mercy,) in protest, scrambling to his little feet and trying to tackle him. Gordon plays along.

"Oh Joshua… you've felled your poor father, you've killed him!" Gordon purposefully overacted, falling over and rolling onto his back, and Joshie was having none of it.

Joshua climbed onto him and sat on his stomach, arms folded. "You're a bad liar."

Gordon smiled and ruffled his short dark curls. "Yeah, yeah, you're right." he replied, before getting back on topic, "So, what d'you think, buckaroo?"

Joshie looked at him, puzzled. "Huh?" 

Gordon propped himself up on his elbows a little- just enough to look at Joshua more comfortably. "You want to come to the wedding with me?"

Joshie suddenly looked a bit sheepish. "Um… what's it gonna be like?"

"Well, you've probably seen parts of weddings in some of your movies and shows before, and actually, I took you with to your uncle's when you were very little, but you were definitely too little to remember," Gordon geared up to explain, pushing aside his own mixed feelings because that was CERTAINLY none of his toddler's business, "At all the ones I've been to, they're just nice little parties, everybody gets dressed up nice and there's a ceremony, where two people who love eachother get married, while their friends and family watch. Then they go take pictures for a bit, and when they get back to where everybody else is, everybody has dinner." 

Joshie's expression is studious and focused as he listens to him explain, nodding along. God, his little runt was a charmer.

"The Best Man or Maid of Honor give a speech," Gordon continues, trying to talk slow to make sure Joshie's getting at least the main ideas, "Or both if you have both. Then the new married couple share their first dance, and then the guests join in. Later they cut a biiiig cake, and everybody who wants some gets some. Then the party keeps going for a little bit, winding down until the new married couple takes their leave and everybody goes home. Theres a few other little things that can happen, but thats most of it."

"Who's getting married?" Joshua asked, patting his hands on Gordon's stomach, almost-rhythmically.

"Some friends of mine from work, their names are Dr. Bubby and Dr. Coomer. Dr. Coomer is very nice, he likes to explain things and he likes to roughhouse," He describes, preparing to lie slightly about the other half of the couple, a bit unsure how to make Bubby's abrasive ass appeal to a toddler. "Dr. Bubby can be… a little mean, but he's really a softie once you get to know him. And he's very smart."

"Oh." Joshie says, putting his chin in his hands, elbows resting on his knees, deep in consideration. "Is the guy who's living with us going?"

"Yep. We'd be bringing him along to go clothes shopping in a few days, so you'd meet him before we'd go. If you want to go." Gordon replied, sitting up a little more, hoping Joshie will get the hint that he wants to sit back up now. He was starting to get pins and needles from propping himself up digging his elbows into the carpet.

"What's HIS name?" Joshie asks, not getting the hint.

"Benrey. Could daddy Gordon sit up now?"

Joshie stood up, letting him get up from the floor. He rubbed at his elbows as Joshua asked a follow up question, "What's he like? Does he like cowboys?"

Gordon scoffs, "Who DOESN'T like cowboys? He's…" Gordon struggles for words to describe Benrey, and settles on being vague, "…confusing, a bit weird, but he's funny. And he likes video games a whole lot."

Joshie and Gordon's talk is interrupted when Gordon's brother calls about something from the other room.

* * *

Benrey spent more time pacing than he's spent doing much else since he'd tried to call Tommy, and honestly he wasn't even sure why. Tommy was right! He usually was! It was too late to bail. He'd dug himself a grave, time to either lie in it or dig it deeper like usual, you DENSE motherfucker. He still wanted to, though. It was hard not to, with how rough it's been on his inconvenient feelings, and how difficult its been to try and hide them.

He tried to go for a walk for awhile, to clear his head, but between the hellish heat that wouldn't subside until after sundown and the seeming complete lack of shit to do in the immediate vicinity of Gordon's place, he turned back quickly. Gordon hadn't bothered to give him a key to the apartment, so he just clipped through the door to enter or exit, generally.

But reentering the apartment this time, he saw something he hadn't wanted to see.

A goddamn skeleton, sitting on the couch, playing his FUCKING PSVita.

He approached quickly, and made to snatch it from his hands. "Bro, fuck off. I don't want you here, nobody wants you here. All you do is make shit harder." 

The skeleton dodged the snatch attempt, and nonchalantly flashed it's passport, name reading 'YOU.'

Benrey groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, I KNOW. I don't fucking GET it, but I know. That doesn't change anything. _I_ don't really wanna be here, and _you_ know it, because _I_ know it."

Trying to wrap his head around the mechanics of this particular expression of his own supernatural bullshit was a little headache inducing.

The skeleton, despite its lack of expressive ability due to being nothing but bones and saying absolutely nothing, managed to get across a witheringly skeptical look.

"…Okay, maybe I don't wanna LEAVE," he begrudgingly admitted, "I wanna… be around Gordon. Doesn't make any fucking sense, with how shit it feels. I want him to know, but I don't want to talk about it. With him. Or Tommy. Or deal with the... uhhhhhh," He smacked his lips and grimaced, "Fallout: New Vegas, if I were to fuck it all up worse."

The skeleton continued to stare, it's empty eyesockets somehow managing to convey it's weariness with the conversation.

Benrey glared back. "I know. A little hard to manage that, but I don't fucking know, dude. I... think he still cares about me. Trusts me. Just a little bit. Somehow. The other night makes me... think so, at least. I don't... wanna fuck that up."

The skeleton loosed a short burst of sweet voice, in a blue-green that turned to a sandy yellow color, and Benrey's face flushed beet-red in embarrassment as his glare turned to a squint.

"…The fuck did you just say to me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tan france 'make an effort.' meme but its tommy @ benrey's dysfunctional gay ass
> 
> I have never written a child younger than 10 and my only reference for this was Lilo And Stitch and I've decided to make that everyone else's problem
> 
> (Blue-green to pale yellow like a beach's shore means please shut up, you pining whore. Because I write this to amuse myself and myself alone)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: treatment of minor injuries and also discussion of Benrey's complete lack of a self-preservation instinct

Gordon fumbles with his keys as he ascends the stairs to his floor of the apartment building, carrying two things, a plastic bag with leftovers his brother sent him home with- which Benrey would most likely steal even if he didn't intend to give it to him- and an old family scrapbook his brother had finally remembered to pass onto him to look through. Gordon wasn't sure he had the energy for a walk down memory lane tonight.

As he approached his apartment's front door and heard a series of thumps, hisses and sharply high-pitched sweet voice, he took a deep breath to prepare himself for whatever the fuck was going on in there, growing tense. The other shoe had to drop eventually, Benrey's bullshit could only be put on hold for appearances so long, that much he was sure of. However nice this honeymoon period mightve been, Benrey was always going to ruin it somehow.

He unlocked the door and came charging in, heavy scrapbook raised above his head, readied as a weapon- only to lower it, stumped- and kind of underwhelmed, really- by the sight he was met with.

Benrey, roughed up a bit and his teeth bared in a snarl, was struggling to shove one of the stupid skeletons Gordon had hoped he'd seen the last of out the window, but it had it's boney fingers dug into the window's frame like claws, struggling to stay inside the apartment despite Benrey's foot firmly planted on its ribcage while it spit a stream of deep blue sweet voice at an increasingly painful pitch that was DEFINITELY going to give Gordon both tinnitus and a headache.

Upon noticing his entrance, Benrey startled and looked to him with a nervous smile. "Yo, Gordon, what's up? little uhhhhh, help over here?"

Well, he. Hadn't expected Benrey to be on the same page about the skeleton, given he had been PRETTY GODDAMN SURE that Benrey WAS the skeleton- but that didn't mean he wanted the skeleton here, so fuck it, why not?

Gordon came over quickly, and grabbed the skeletons sharp boney hands and unhooked them from the frame of the window, and Benrey wasted no time kicking the thing, sending it plummeting skullfirst into the- for some reason, open- dumpster behind his apartment building, its descent making the sweet voice it was streaming sound like a fucking _slide whistle._

Gordon couldnt stop himself from cracking up into hysterics when it landed in the trash and the dumpster's lid crashed down on it like a slapstick punchline. He had to lean on the window frame as he started to wheeze, as Benrey relaxed and laughed a little himself.

Between wheezes, Gordon put a hand on Benrey's shoulder, and tried to give him a serious look. "What the FUCK is the deal with the SKELETON? Isn't the skeleton supposed to be YOU, dude?"

Benrey looked at the hand on his shoulder with a queasy smile, not responding for a moment, before looking back at him, raising his hand and rocking it in a 'so-so' gesture.

Gordon tries to be mad for about half a second, looking at Benrey before dissolving into further desperately incredulous giggly wheezing, tears pricking his eyes. "What does that fucking mean… What the FUCK does that MEAN?"

Benrey gives a weak shrug, expression making his answer a very clear admittance, even without words- 'fuck if i know, man.' 

Gordon buries his teary eyes in the sleeve of his shirt, throat starting to hurt from the laughter, but the tension he'd walked into the apartment feeling was absolutely gone. He wanted so bad to be mad, to investigate this point, but for god's sake, that could wait until he could breathe.

* * *

Tommy hadn't been to Darnold's before tonight- he'd had to turn down a previous invitation as he'd had a lesson with Gordon already scheduled, though he'd seen a few pictures of his home laboratory. Darnold seemed to be the type to get absorbed in his work in general, so it didn't strike him as all that odd that he hadn't seen much else of his home. 

As Tommy pulls up in front of Darnold's home on his lemon yellow moped, Darnold is sitting on his stoop, doing something on his phone, and he perks right up at the sound of the moped's engine and waves.

Tommy pulls into Darnold's driveway and parks, giving the keys a twirl in his hand before pocketing them in his windbreaker. Darnold stands up and meets him halfway to the porch.

"Hello Tommy!" 

"Hi!" Tommy enthusiastically greets, popping his riding helmet off with a grin and holding it under one arm, offering a handshake with the other which Darnold eagerly returns.

"First things first..." Darnold started, a little nervously, "I forgot to ask, you're not allergic to cats, are you?"

"A little bit, but its nothing serious. You have cats?"

"I… forgot to mention, I have um… three. Two of them are a bit more hypoallergenic than the average cat though, and the third one is skittish, with new people, so you might not even see her, so I'm sure you'll be… fine," Darnold replied, with a brief twiddle of his thumbs, "And! They're not allowed in my home laboratory anyway, just… pretty much everywhere else. So allergies shouldn't be too much of a concern."

"I'm- I'm barely allergic anyway, it's probably barely even- even relevant," Tommy insisted, "I'd like to meet them! I'm more- more of a dog person generally, but that- that doesnt mean i don't like cats!"

"That's a relief, they can be a bit… much." Darnold replied, turning back toward the front door, gesturing enthusiastically for Tommy to follow him inside.

Darnold's home is cozy and simple, but Tommy doesn't have time to notice much more than a framed Star Trek poster before two of Darnold's cats make their first appearance and steal both of their attention.

Both were medium sized cats, with very soft looking fur and particularly lanky bodies that reminded Tommy just a little bit of a ferret, both colorpoints, one orange and one tortoiseshell. The tortoiseshell approached Tommy and Darnold, yowling for attention right off the bat. The ginger one watched them both, waiting for something.

"Oh, oh wait! Watch this!" Darnold said, then patted his chest and quickly held his arms out. Reacting to what was apparently a signal, Tommy only saw a white blur race across Darnold's wood floor and launch itself directly onto his chest like a bullet, Darnold's arms naturally wrapping around the cat to support it as it creeps far enough up his chest to headbutt him directly in the mouth.

Darnold chuckled quietly, and tried to talk around the cat determinedly butting its soft ginger face into his. "This one, his name is Josta- quit it- and he's a sprightly one! Very active, not the brightest bulb in the box, causes problems on purpose, you know how some cats can be, I'm sure- Achk, Josta, youre getting your hair in my mouth, Josta- But he's very sweet." Darnold said, giving the cat a kiss on it's cheek.

Tommy grinned, heart warmed by the sight. "Oh, definitely." 

Darnold continued forward, carrying the cat, and pointed out the tortie- who was still yowling, intermittently- as it approached to inspect Tommy. "That one is Miss Pibb, she's just as demanding and bratty as her brother, she just prefers to- Ppfth, Josta you HAVE to be getting bored of this by now- She just prefers to yell about it instead of climb you like a tree."

Tommy nodded, and looked down at the charming kitty busy begging for his attention. His allergies really WERE quite mild- couldn't be too much of an issue to give her a little love, could it?

Darnold, as if sensing this as Josta climbed onto his shoulders, added, "Oh, don't pet her unless she sits on you, if she rubs against you like she's looking for attention, its a trick and she WILL bite you. She wants to-"

Tommy had already been bent down in a slav squat, hand hovering over the lanky cats head, and Miss Pibb moved faster than her brother had climbing Darnold to try to bite Tommy's fingers before Tommy could process the warning. Tommy fell over flinching away, catching himself on his hands, but Miss Pibbs immediately pounced on his nearest hand with her claws out, earning a startled hiss from Tommy, and she ran, expecting Tommy to give chase. 

Tommy snorts instead, rubbing his hand where she'd caught it with her claws. That's gonna itch like hell.

Darnold sighs, bemused. Josta hops down his back and he helps Tommy back onto his feet, taking one of Tommy's hands in his own and leaning over so he could use his shoulder to pull himself up. "She wants to roughhouse. Is what I was going to say."

Tommy laughed it off. "It's alright, Dr. Pepper, I don't mind. What's the third cat's name? I've noticed a trend."

Darnold smiled and shifted his gaze away, "Yes, well, the third one doesn't quite fit it. I got the other two from a lovely breeder of Javanese cats, but the third's a rescue, but like I said, you probably won't see- Oh."

Darnold had noticed something while avoiding eye contact with Tommy, and Tommy followed his gaze, taking a mental note of the fact Darnold still hadn't let go of his hand despite him being firmly on his feet. He wouldn't mention it, but he noticed.

Peering cautiously into the room was a quite large, almost-regal looking cat with a longhaired brown tabby coat, white markings and a bit of an overbite. It crept ever so carefully out of hiding.

"Well that is… thats new. Pernelle isn't usually quite this brave." Darnold said, voice hushed, stepping away from Tommy and kneeling to try and attract the cat closer, making a soft little "pspspsp" noise. Despite the gentleness, the abrupt acknowledgement of her presence was enough to startle her back into hiding in another room.

Darnold sighs, standing back up and looking at Tommy. "Oh well. Sorry about her, Pernelle's a sweetheart, but she still has some trust issues. With people that. Aren't me. And even also me, sometimes. She pretty much only consistently likes Miss Pibb, which I can't really fathom, she's a bit of a bastard-" he explains, rubbing the back of his neck, before jumping back into business, "Excuse my rambling, we should probably head into my home lab now."

"It's- It's really no trouble, Dr. Pepper! I like talking pets! But thats beside- beside the point. I'm a fan of your work, but you're also just- just fun to talk to! We don't always have to talk about work." Tommy insisted.

Darnold's eyes went wide for a moment, and he looked away, fidgeted shyly, and smiled. "Ah, well, that's… thats nice. To hear. Thank you, Dr. Coolatta. I believe you mentioned you're a dog person?"

* * *

"Sit still." Gordon demanded, and Benrey did his best, but couldn't help but wince a little at the cold as Gordon wiped down his skeleton scuffle-inflicted wounds, sitting on a chair Gordon had pulled into the bathroom. They were pretty minor as far as Benrey was concerned- he wasn't sure why Gordon was bothering. Benrey's accelerated healing meant the worst of them would probably be gone in an hour at most.

Benrey played at being snarky, unsure how else to process this. He felt a bit exposed, fiddling with his ripped and slightly bloodied t shirt in his hands. He'd liked this shirt. Had the Konami Code on it. "Thought you said you weren't a medical doctor. Gonna need to see your license to pract-" 

Benrey let out an involuntary hiss of pain as Gordon used some Neosporin™ on some of the more minor cuts on his back. Benrey was pretty sure that the Neosporin™ stung worse than GETTING those cuts in the first place.

"Please, try to stay quiet while I'm doing this, the Tylenol I took for my headache has NOT kicked in yet," Gordon groaned, brow furrowed in concentration as he continued to treat Benrey's battle damage, "And I don't need a fucking medical license to perform basic first aid wound care."

"If you had a medical license you'd notice what you're doing is fuckin'... pointless, idiot." Benrey grumbles, trying very hard to ignore the creeping sense of the intimacy of this, and wanting something, just, anything to do or say so he could pay attention to something OTHER than Gordon gently tending to his wounds that he got wrestling a bullshit manifestation of vague connection to him out a window because it- rightfully, to Benrey's unending frustration- mocked him for pining after the uninterested man currently dedicating time and energy he genuinely didn't fucking need to to looking out for him. 

He'd literally attempted to kick his own ass- kind of- and Gordon was busying himself with patching him up after helping him finish the job. Even Benrey wanted to make fun of Benrey right now.

"You think this is pointless?" Gordon snapped back, to Benrey's surprise. "You get SICK, don't you? You're probably susceptible to shit like, you know, fucking INFECTIONS?"

Benrey raised an eyebrow. "…How'd you know I can get sick? Haven't caught anything in the time you've known me."

Gordon placed an adhesive pad bandage onto his back over some of the cleaned wounds, and his answer was quick and irritable. "Tommy mentioned it. Now please, shut up. I repeat, I have a headache."

"…still pointless. Could just take a nap or like, respawn. Don't need this whole shebang." Benrey griped, tapping his feet idly.

Gordon starts to shush him, before stopping. He stops bandaging momentarily too. "Wait… Hold on. What did you just say? Respawn?"

Benrey looks back at him, and noticed confusion painted Gordon's features. "…yeah? Where'd I lose you, man? Thought you were a gamer?"

"No, I- the issue isn't the TERMINOLOGY, Benrey-" Gordon stammered, "Can you… do that on command? Don't you have to _die_ to respawn?"

Benrey was feeling a little confused himself by this line of questioning. "Uhhhh, 'course I gotta die to respawn. That's like, part of the definition. What's not clicking, PHDman?"

Gordon's voice grew more distressed and disturbed with what seemed like every word, "Benrey, you basically just said 'I could nap or I could just _die_ to reset myself'. Like its just as normal _either way_ to consider a nap or _fucking dying_ over putting on some _bandaids,_ and it didn't sound like you were joking!"

Benrey fidgeted uncomfortably. Suddenly, quietly feeling vulnerable like an idiot while being doted on sounded pretty good, actually, instead of like, whatever THIS conversation was becoming? 

Benrey fiddled with the dangling parts of his hat. "I mean… yeah? This feels weird and it's taking a while. Either one would be faster and less weird. It's not a big deal for me. I know it is for you, since you don't… come back, but I thought you'd caught on by now that it doesn't matter much man, keep up."

Gordon didn't respond, so he continued, "It doesn't mean shit to me. I mean, it fuckin' stings, and I get it's not like back in Black Mesa out here, where nobody gives a shit about bodies, but…" Benrey trailed off, unsettled by the growing horror on Gordon's face. "…You good, Gordo?"

Gordon steadied himself on the chair, running a hand into his hair, reeling as if any of this was some kind of horrid revelation. Benrey was not under the impression this was recent news?

"Am _I_ good- _Christ,_ Benrey," Gordon breathed, "Are YOU okay? Do you need a fucking _hug,_ man? It is NOT healthy to be that fucking BLASE about that, even if you can afford to."

Benrey still didn't fully… get, what the issue was, but hey, a hug's a hug, and he wasn't gonna pass this kind of chance up if Gordon was basically _offering,_ as weird as this fucking atmosphere had gotten. He might as well try. He cleared his throat and asked, trying not to sound like some kind of pleading baby. "…hug?"

He couldn't say he wasn't a little surprised by the lack of hesitation with which Gordon stepped around to the front of the chair, and pulled Benrey up into a tight- but careful, as to not squeeze Benrey's dressed wounds- hug.

…Good god, it's so much better than he even thought it would be. He was so... warm. Gordon hugs made you feel like you BELONGED there, and Benrey can't help but MELT into it. He willed himself not to shake returning it, gently gripping the fabric of the back of Gordon's shirt and burying his face into his shoulder, trying to ignore the burn of sweet voice at the back of his throat.

He stands there in Gordon's arms, just savoring it, despite the creeping return of discomfort to the silence between them.

Finally, and yet much too soon for Benrey's liking, Gordon loosened the hug in anticipation of ending it. "…You know I'm still expecting an explanation for the skeleton eventually, right?" Gordon grumbles softly, and it almost sounds like a joke he's expecting Benrey to finish.

Benrey rested his head on Gordon's shoulder with a huff. "…I'll give you one when I have one, Free-"

Benrey had tried to be careful. But a bubble of sweet voice, strawberry blonde, escaped with a clear and ringing little note, and he felt Gordon start to pull away to look. Benrey tugged him back. 

"Don't look? Please? It's embarrassing." Benrey whined, face flushed, resenting the crack in his voice.

Gordon quirks an eyebrow and immediately tries to turn his head to look anyway, but Benrey reaches over Gordon's shoulder at lightning speed, squeezing the orb and wiping the resultant splat of liquid off on the back of Gordon's shirt.

"Jesus, okay! You don't want me to see it," Gordon huffed, pulling out of the hug, and squirming in his now slightly wet shirt. "...ew. That stuff doesn't stain fabric, does it?"

"Nah, and thank god. You don't need to see that shit. Nosey." Benrey grumbled, folding his arms, hiding the stained hand.

"Nosey? How the fuck am I being nosey, I was literally just- witnessing you feeling emotions!" Gordon complained, rolling his eyes. "Whatever. Just sit back down. Nobody is 'respawning' over scrapes, and I'm not done yet."

* * *

"A-alright! I've got the evil flavor powerade prototype ready to go for the taste test!" Darnold announced, and Tommy sat up excitedly at the lab table, drumming his fingers in anticipation as Darnold carried over a pair of wine glasses. For optimal tasting, of course. Darnold brandished a corked beaker, twisted out the cork and poured a small sample for the both of them.

Tommy is immediately struck by the smell. It stinks of durian and malice, and if the smell was any indication of the flavor, that was a good start for something that's supposed to taste of evil. Tommy's face crinkles at the abrasive scent- and he snorts when he sees the same reflected in Darnold's expression.

"Cheers?" Darnold says, raising his glass.

"Cheers!" Tommy echoes.

The two empty their respective glasses, resisting laughter as they both watch the other's face change expressions in response to the taste, moment by moment.

Finally, Tommy can't bear another moment of it, and swallows, gasping for air and breaking into hysterical giggles, "It tastes- It tastes like how- how Paul McCartney's Temporary Secretary sounds! My mouth feels like I took a box of Beanboozled™ jellybeans and I- I just- just slammed it like a frat star without any- Without regard for the CONSEQUENCES of my FUCKING actions!"

Darnold's face twisted up in restrained laughter before he swallowed his own serving, spluttering and wheezing, "I think some went up my nose, this is a nightmare and I can't wake up! I've created a damn monster! This is a rousing success, but good god, I'd like to disown it! It tastes like hell on earth!"

Tommy takes Darnold's hand across the table and squeezes it in solidarity, crying with laughter over this truly horrific, Frankensteinian flavor innovation, pounding his other fist on the table a few times to vent how overwhelmed he was by just the AFTERTASTE.

As one might imagine, it took a bit to wind down from hysterics and actually record their findings. The feeling reminded Tommy a little bit of his time in college, the specific rush and giddy winddown that came with doing something real stupid with a friend could make even something as wildly unpleasant as Evil Flavor way too fun. This was way safer and more reasonable than what Tommy Bahama might've done chasing that feeling, though, and Tommy was very happy with that. Between frat life and Black Mesa, Tommy had seen enough danger-flavored excitement for a lifetime.

"So…" Tommy probed as they finished with the post-test paperwork, "What now?" 

Darnold startled a little at the question. "Ah, well… hm," he stood up and took their glasses to the lab's sink, "Do you need to be getting home?"

Tommy's consideration doesn't last long. "Not particularly! I'm good to stay longer, if you'll have me," Tommy remembers something he'd observed earlier, "I've been meaning to give binging Star Trek a go, if you're interested in making- in making this a watch party."

Darnold's eyes light up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have decided Darnold is a cat person and noone can stop me. Also i love him
> 
> Benrey: I don't care that much if i die bc its not like it sticks and im kinda used to it. I mean it hurts i guess but who cares  
> Gordon, rightfully horrified: thats. fucked up??? Are you okay?  
> Benrey, genuinely confused: why wouldn't i be, there haven't been any lasting consequences. Also sometimes i died in a funny way  
> Gordon:


	11. Chapter 11

As Tommy lies half-awake on Darnold's couch, wrapped up in a blanket, he recognizes three things as his brain boots to life.

Firstly, the abrasiveness of the summer daylight streaming through Darnold's blinds, and the distinct feelings of his allergies acting up something awful.

Secondly, that he'd stayed the night at Darnold's. At some point during their watch party Tommy had started to drift off, and Darnold had brought him a blanket and pillow and went to bed. He vaguely remembers being gently shaken awake and asked if he needed to get home tonight and blowing it off. A bit rude of him to assume that was fine, but it would've been dangerous trying to drive home that tired and it was nothing an appreciative apology shouldn't mend.

Thirdly, something was weighing on his torso and legs, and he suspected the culprits were also responsible for the fact he'd woken up sniffling.

Tommy lifted his head and opened his eyes- itchy and likely slightly reddened- to confirm, and sure enough, there were definitely cats making a bed of him. Surprisingly, one of them was the large one- Pernelle, Darnold said her name was. Obscure reference to the historical alchemist, Tommy thinks. Cute. She was planted right on his chest, staring at him.

Tommy moved one hand carefully, ever so slowly, to offer it to Pernelle for inspection.

He froze as she turned to look at his hand- and butted her large, very soft head against Tommy's fingers.

SUCCESS-!

-aaaaand that success is ripped from his grasp when his treacherously animal-allergic body decides now is the right time for a very sudden, very loud sneeze, startling the skittish cat into launching herself off his stomach and running for the hills.

Oh well. Things like this reminded him why Sunkist was so perfect for him- he was pretty much the only animal with fur he wasn't allergic to to some degree, because he'd designed him that way. Even Sunkist's predecessor had set off an itch, however much Tommy had ADORED that dog.

The other cat who'd taken up his legs- Miss Pibbs, he remembered- took her leave as well, much more casually, to follow the other cat elsewhere.

Tommy sighed, sat up, and stretched, cracking his back. God, he really shouldn't be sleeping on couches if he could help it.

His phone rumbled on the coffee table, and he reached for it lazily to check his notifications. He should've brought a charger or something, his phone was very low on battery.

A couple Electronic Bay™ notifications about his bids on items, a couple from Facebook groups, an email from a college ex he immediately deletes…

A couple texts from Gordon and a single one from Benrey. 

Tommy opens Benrey's first, as it's a bit more recent.

Benrey: yoooo. so uh. sorry. for trying to bail like some kinda chicken hat baby. Wasn't fair. You wanna go somewhere today?

Well that's. Unexpected. Benrey was straightforwardly apologizing without prompting less than a full 24 hours after a slightly hostile conversation where he didn't really even. Say anything all that bad. Before he can open Gordon's texts, Darnold appeared from another room, toting two cups of coffee. 

"Good morning! I hope you managed to sleep well, despite. The couch, and the cats, and your allergies," Darnold greets, "Coffee? I haven't put anything in it yet, so its perfectly customizable!"

Tommy smiles, taking a mug from Darnold with a very grateful "Thank you." 

Darnold sets his own cup down on a coaster on the coffee table and hurries back to the kitchen for sugar and creamer.

Tommy tries a small sip of the still-black coffee out of curiousity, and puts it right back down with a grimace. Not for him. Tommy could take a little bitterness but that was entirely too much. If he was gonna drink coffee, it was gonna be half cream and sweet to a level on par with chocolate milk, thank you very much.

"What do you take in your coffee, Tommy? I've got a lot of creamer options! Like plain, hazelnut, cinnamon vanilla, french vanilla, vanilla caramel, caramel macchiato, pumpkin spice, butter pecan, irish creme, cookies and cream, hazelnut… Wait, did i say that one already?"

"Um, cin- cinnamon vanilla sounds nice! Thank you." Tommy chirped, picking his phone back up, and checking the texts from Gordon.

Gordon: hey, so, Benrey used a new color and he was very determined I don't see it  
Gordon: he popped it the second i tried to look at it, but i caught a look at the hand it stained when he did that  
Gordon: im not sure if he didn't want me to see because its particularly significant or if he's just onto us and doesnt want me puzzling his shit out, but if he doesnt want me to know, i WANT to know.  
Gordon: it was this… pinkish orange color? With kind of a middle pitch, not really high or low exactly  
Gordon: Kind of what you think of when someone calls something 'strawberry blond'?  
Gordon: even if like every hair dye with that label is a significantly different color, you get what i mean, right? Gordon: sorry, you're probably busy with wedding stuff

"O-oh shoot." Tommy thinks out loud, only realizing he'd spoken about halfway through sputtering out the words.

"Something wrong?" Darnold chimed in with concern, returning to the room, sitting down on the couch beside him, and handing him the requested coffee creamer.

"No-nothing big, just… two of my friends having a bit of… a relationship issue," Tommy replied with a sigh, adding the creamer, giving his coffee a little stir and taking a grateful sip.

"Relationship issue? Don't tell me the wedding's off!" Darnold gasped.

"N-no, it's uh. It's a different pair of friends. Benrey and Gordon," Tommy replied, "I don't think anything short of death could stop Bubby and Coomer getting hitched at this point, they were so impatient to finally get to do it now they actually forgot to tell Gordon they were even engaged until they went to ask for his address to send his invitation."

Darnold snorted, lifting his own coffee mug for a sip. "That's cute."

…Then confusion clouded his expression and he hesitated on that sip. "Hold on. Benrey was… the guard, correct?"

Tommy nodded.

"…relationship issue?" Darnold tilted his head slightly in palpable confusion.

...Oh, thats right. Darnold's only peek at their whole… dynamic, was when Gordon tested out his new gun arm on… uh. Benrey's face. "It's um. They don't have a relationship, Benrey just… likes Gordon, but I mean. You've seen… seen why that's kind of a problem for him. It's- It's a complicated situation. We don't have to get into it."

Darnold took a looooong sip of his coffee and sighed then looked to Tommy. "Please, do fill me in. I'm too curious not to wonder."

* * *

Okay. Whatever THAT had been last night, Benrey still couldn't be sure he cared for it.

Well, the affection was kind of great, more of that, please and thanks. But also no? Stop it? It was only making the complication of his feelings worse. Gordon didn't even KNOW he was making it worse. What else was new. Gordon doesnt know something that should be at least a degree of obvious at this point? Next thing you tell Benrey, the sun's gonna rise tomorrow!

Benrey had made a point of going to bed soon after Gordon finished playing medic. He wasn't about to let last night get any weirder, so he'd waltzed back out to the couch and tucked himself in, hoping the vibe would be soft reset by morning.

Waking up was harder today. He really shouldn't get into the habit of sleeping- he'd found a long while ago that if he did, he wanted to do it more? Tommy had explained that since human bodies need a certain amount of sleep, it can be harder to wake up again when you havent been sleeping for a while, because your body wants to make up the time, and that even if Benrey wasn't human, his body seemed to function remarkably similarly in a lot of aspects, so that might be the issue. 

He really didn't care much about the why, he mostly just cared that it sucked and he hated it. His body felt achy and weak for no good reason, his head hurt, his hands shook and his reaction times were sluggish for hours after waking. If his body wanted to make up the time and he let it have its way, he might be out of commission for the next few months.

Benrey sat up and stretched, reminded of his bandaging by the irritating way it moved beneath his current shirt, a loose black sweatshirt with "You're finally awake!" in that classic skyrim font. 

He spent the next 10 minutes peeling off bandages with his irritatingly shaky hands, eventually giving up with the ones on his back, just out of reach. He could just make his arms longer to reach, but…

He didn't particularly like the feeling of shapeshifting, as much as the ability itself was very handy, so he tended to avoid it given it made him feel like his flesh was crawling, outside of Xen at least, and Xen had it's own caveats. Very unpleasant sensory sensation until it settled, and he was pretty happy with the current shape he took.

So he wasn't exactly jonesing to lengthen his arms over bandaids. That'd just be trading one sensory irritant for another.

Welp, guess the only option was to bug Gordon to do it. He'd been so insistent on getting those things on there despite Benrey's protests, it's only fair he help remove them. 

Benrey approaches Gordon's bedroom door and goes to knock, but in the otherwise very still and quiet apartment, he hears him quietly pacing inside. "Yoooo, you up in there?"

A sudden light thump and a hushed curse. Maybe Benrey had startled him and he dropped something? 

After a moment Gordon came to the door, his bedhead hair tied up lazily with a scrunchie. He sounded tired, but more… nervous than irritable or weary, for some reason. "Hi. Why are you at my door?"

"Can't get all my bandaids off. Dont need 'em anymore." Benrey replied bluntly.

"Oh."

Gordon looked… oddly relieved, and Benrey squinted. "Something up, bro? You good?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine." Gordon replied, a little too quickly. Oh, he's definitely hiding something.

Possibly sensing Benrey's suspicion, he changed topic before Benrey had a chance to question further. "You wanna do pancakes or something for breakfast?"

…Benrey's suspicions could wait, if pancakes were on the table.

* * *

"...Being a bystander to all of this must be like watching a series of car crashes unfold in slow motion," Darnold replied, head in hand, weary just having heard the relevant details, "I barely know these people and yet I still feel bad for them and yet can't help but keep listening."

"Y-you aren't... wrong," Tommy laughed weakly, fiddling with a button on his shirt in the absence of his propeller hat, "With- with all of that in mind, knowing that strawberry blonde translates to 'of you, I'm deeply fond', you can probably imagine why getting that text might be… an issue, since Benrey's- Benrey's kind of… dancing around it, and I'm worried I'll mess things up somehow by telling Gordon."

"To… an extent, yes," Darnold replies, "Although it's hardly your fault if Gordon caught him redhanded. Or pinkhanded. He'll find out what it means eventually with your lessons."

"Yeah… Yeah." Tommy reluctantly replied, head in hands. Darnold was right, of course- there wasn't really anything that he could tell Gordon that wouldn't either set back their progress or out Benrey's feelings, at least that he could think of. Regardless, he'd need to make a decision about which friend to let down, as these two problems could no longer be managed in parallel.

"Have you considered just… ghosting the both of them until the wedding?" Darnold jokingly suggests.

Tommy snorts.

...Wait. Hold on. That might actually…

Tommy lifted his head from his hands. "...Darnold, you're a genius."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darnold: i didnt exactly mean that. in earnest.  
> Darnold: ...you think im a genius? 😊
> 
> Y'all caught me on the last chapter, i am a proud proponent of the darmy agenda, lmao
> 
> lil bit of a shorter one this time, hope y'all dont mind!


	12. Chapter 12

Was Benrey onto him? Onto him and Tommy?

Maybe that was a strange way to think about it. It's not like him and Tommy were plotting or something- they weren't doing anything wrong or malicious. Gordon literally just wanted to understand Benrey's confusing ass, and if Benrey knew he was trying to get that help from Tommy, he might impede his progress. Given Benrey knew he'd been asking for translations from Tommy now, and had apparently responded to that information by actively attempting to hide a new color from him, Gordon was pretty sure that was a grounded fear!

Still, waiting on a reply from Tommy made him feel like there was something conspiratorial in the air, and even chocolate chip pancakes couldn't distract him from the thought that any minute now Benrey might give him that infuriating little squint and start pushing him for information.

They might be distracting Benrey well enough though. Boy, he looked blissed the fuck OUT eating those shitty box mix pancakes. 

"…You sure are enjoying those, huh?" Gordon questioned, mostly to amuse himself, because Benrey clearly wasn't paying attention.

He swallowed, and gave a sleepy "Whuh?" in reply.

"Don't worry about it," Gordon replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

Benrey squinted into space for a short quiet spell, and Gordon was almost startled when he seemed to suddenly process what he'd been asked, "Oh, oh hell yeah, did great, 10/10, Gordon Ramsey."

Gordon quirked an eyebrow. "They're just box pancakes with chocolate chips, dude. It's not a big deal. Did you... sleep ok, man?"

"Slept like a rock." Benrey replied, though the statement was punctuated with a yawn and a grimace.

Teasing concern crept into Gordon's voice. "All the nights staying up playing games catching up with you? You should try to sleep in a little more, man. You clearly need it. Or at least sleep more regularly."

Benrey groaned. "Ughhhhh, bro, that'd make things worse, then I'd just be… sleeping all the fucking time."

Gordon snorted, tone equally confused and amused. "Yeah? Is that an issue? 6 to 8 hours spent asleep of every 24 is pretty normal."

Benrey made a face. "I'm not human, remember? Memory of a- a fuckin' goldfish. Airhead. If you could stay up with zero consequences 'cept feeling like shit waking up when you did sleep, wouldn't you want to stay up all the time too? Doing literally anything else?"

"No? Why would I?" Gordon replied, incredulous, "Why would I submit myself to sleep deprivation willingly? A good nights sleep is like a soft reset on your brain, not even considering how hazardous not sleeping is to your physical health," he continued, voice scolding, but a bit teasing too, "If THAT'S what you've been doing, your immune system's probably a fucking wreck. Take better care of yourself, man."

Benrey's face flushed as he grumbled something inaudibly, the only word Gordon heard of it being 'stupid', returning his attention to his food.

Gordon rolled his eyes and started lazily scrolling social media on his phone while he returned to picking at his own breakfast.

"…I've been meaning to ask," Gordon started after a bit, "Why is it that sometimes normal stuff would kill you, but other times an absurd amount of damage wouldn't?"

"Told you already. There are no predetermined deaths." Benrey replied flatly.

Gordon needed to take a second to process that response. "…THAT'S what that meant? I thought you were just being cryptic to fuck with me."

Benrey looked away like he was trying to remember something. "I thiiiiiink I'm usually pretty obvious about it when I'm fucking with you?"

Recalling certain very tasteless later comments from Benrey about his lost arm during the Resonance Cascade, that's… mostly true. "…I. Guess so. So do you just… not know if something will kill you before it does?"

Benrey makes a so so gesture and takes a smug sip of Gordon's coffee. Which Gordon had just noticed he'd taken while he wasn't paying attention.

Gordon reaches across the table and snags it back with a deadpan look, and Benrey doesn't protest. "You can't just deflect questions you don't want to answer by trying to irritate me."

Benrey's eyes widen slightly, and then dart away as he huffs softly. "Sometimes I just _actually_ don't fucking _know_ shit, dude."

Now this was getting somewhere.

"Okay, say I believe you. Why don't you tell me what you DO know instead of just avoiding the questions completely?" Gordon replied curiously, pointing his fork at Benrey, "A vague explanation's better than nothing to go on."

Benrey shifted in place uncomfortably, "Y'say that. Buuuuut," he smacked his lips and grimaces, "-spent enough time around science types t'know you want more than that, and I can't tell you more than that, 'cause I… just can't. Don't fucking know how."

Gordon considers this. That… actually made sense. Surprisingly easy sense, with what he knew. Benrey had apparently spent most if not all of his life as an anomaly living in an institution of science, it tracks that he'd be pretty tired of being pushed to explain himself if he didn't have answers. He could see how someone might take to being cryptic out of spite in that kind of invasive, alienating environment. On the other hand…

"It's kind of unfair for you to assume I'd do that before you've even really tried. Being a scientist doesnt mean I don't know what boundaries are." Gordon replied.

Benrey levels a weary look at Gordon.

Gordon returns the look with his own scathing one.

Benrey finally looks away, and takes a long time to answer. His tone, bitter, has a shade of dejection to it that almost made Gordon feel guilty. "I did try. I'm just not… good at it. I'm not a… science guy. Don't know shit, don't get stuff, don't understand things. Not like the others. I mean, I'm cool and smart, but not at. Explanations."

Gordon defended himself, "The others also weren't constantly trying to impede our progress, or playing buddy-buddy with bootboys. Lacking mutual understanding is not the only reason we didn't get along."

Benrey made an obnoxious gagging noise, and groaned. "Brooooo, fuck bootboys. Those were just old fuckin… PSN buddies so they were givin' me a pass. Don't like the fuckers for real, just rolling with the punches. Just… chilling."

Gordon scoffed in disbelief, "Oh yeah? What about Forzen?"

Benrey grimaced, face painted with weary irritation and mild disgust. "What ABOUT Forzen?"

"He said you guys were 'best friends'." Gordon replied, a little accusingly.

Benrey groaned, "Emphasis on WERE friends. He joined the military and I cut him off." Benrey bared his teeth in a sneer, "B'sides, he was a clingy fuckin' weirdo anyway. Maybe I was HIS best friend. But TOMMY'S my best friend, not the idiot bootboy fuck with ten thousand giga-shit opinions."

Gordon tried to casually cover his mouth to hide the way his smile cracked, but catching how Benrey's face lit up, he'd not been fast enough.

"STUPID thought Metroid was the main character's _name."_

Gordon snorted, a bit embarrassed with himself by the gamer-brand hobby elitism necessary to find that misconception funny.

Gordon tried, holding off laughter by a thread, "Hold… hold on, you can't just deflect by making me laugh either-"

"Bootboy too much of an idiot to get the point of _Spec Ops: The Liiiiine,_ bro!"

"It is SO fucking on the nose, HOW could you MISS that shit?!" Gordon instinctually exclaimed in hysterical disbelief, before trying again, "Wait, stop-"

"Huh? Trying to interrupt me? Trying to interrupt? What are you, a bootlicker? Gonna defend bootboy? Like the taste of leather? Huh?"

Gordon's tone was equal parts confusion, irritation and amusement. "Are you trying to entertain me or piss me off? I genuinely cannot fucking tell with you. Now that I fucking think about it- it is a line- a TIGHTROPE, really- you seem to enjoy doing fucking ACROBATICS on."

Benrey ignores the accusation entirely, polishing off the last of his pancakes, and grinning back at Gordon, tone almost teasingly saccharine. "Thank you for breakfast, friend."

Suddenly, Gordon realizes he never actually… gave Benrey a reason for making him breakfast today. He HAD a reason- to distract him from trying to interrogate him this morning- but he couldn't exactly tell him that, could he?

"I- I uh…" Caught off-guard, Gordon swallows his pride, unable to come up with an alternative excuse on the fly. "…Yeah. You're welcome, I guess."

Benrey seems not to pay the lack of justification any attention at first. Just takes his dishes to the sink, rinses them off for easier washing later, (the dude was WEIRDLY mannerly at seemingly every turn considering… fucking. Like. Everything. Not that Gordon's complaining,) but after he does, Gordon notices him look over his shoulder with a slight squint like he's expecting something.

Think Gordon, you can come up with a bullshit reason for making a guy breakfast. He is LITERALLY fucking waiting for you to. Clearly, if you don't, he'll notice!

"…I think you owe me at least a little explanation for making breakfast." Nailed it.

Benrey… was unimpressed. He stared at Gordon for a while before he finally responded. "…You know that doesn't explain why you offered to make the pancakes in the first place, right?"

 _SHIT._ "Oh, that was because… you. Did good. Letting me patch you up," Gordon tried, then grew more confident. Why wasn't this his FIRST excuse? "You complained the whole time, sure, but you were otherwise very patient with the whole process. And you got the skeleton out of the house, and I don't want those fucking things anywhere near me." 

Benrey made a vague face but seemed to relax, poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot, and sat on the counter. "They're not so bad. Just annoying. And stupid. And confusing. Can be good company though."

Gordon snorts. "Sounds like someone I know. Are we… gonna have to do something about the one in the dumpster?"

Benrey squints, either paying the insult no mind or not registering his implication, taking a loud sip of his definitely still too hot coffee. "…Nah, it's probably gone by now."

"You mean you think it survived the fall and ran off?"

Benrey shook his head dismissively, "They uh… dissolve? Eventually. When they die. Liiiiiike…" he smacks his lips, and spits out an orb in demonstration and points to it as it starts to dissolve into the air, "Sweet voice."

Gordon noted the green color of the orb. Green means he's not mean… so Benrey didn't mean any harm, so he… probably wasn't lying? Finally, finally a win for Gordon. It finally actually felt like he was gaining ground. "See, you CAN give me helpful information! I mean, it's like pulling TEETH, sure, but you can do it. Now I know the skeletons dissolve like the sweet voice does, which implies they're similar somehow!"

Benrey quirked an eyebrow and replied, doing snarky air quotes for emphasis. "How's that s'posed to be 'helpful?' Huh?"

"I- I'm not… sure, but it at least gives me… I don't know, a firmer idea of the nature of your whole… shit." Gordon admitted, gesturing to all of Benrey, "Gives me a weak grasp at consistency to hold onto with you."

Benrey wasted no time shooting Gordon a mean grin and batted his eyelashes at him. "Whoa, whuh? Y'wanna hold onto me?"

"WITH you, WITH-" Gordon tried, but Benrey was already leaving the room.

Gordon buries his head in his hands with an agonized groan that petered off into a frustrated, hysterical whine. This was fucking hopeless.

* * *

Okay. So Tommy still wasn't answering. Benrey had been left on read for now. He must be… busy with wedding stuff. Just his luck he'd start getting busy now, when apparently the word of the day in this house was gonna be nosey.

Benrey figures it was time for his turn, if Gordon was still playing this game today.

So he snagged the scrapbook Gordon had come in with last night off the coffee table and got snug on the couch to snoop, still sipping at his coffee, popping open to a page at random.

…Wow, this is a poorly made scrapbook. No labels on like. Anything. How would someone not familiar with any of these people recognize the significance of most of these photos-

And just like that, the scrapbook is casually snagged out of his hands.

He looks up, and the look on Gordon's face is… strange, as he puts the scrapbook under his arm. Difficult to parse, but it's definitely some kind of curious, which does not inspire confidence in Benrey.

"...Scooch over." Gordon finally says in an odd tone. "I was meaning to look through that anyway."

Benrey sits up to make room, admittedly curious, though still on guard that Gordon might try to use this as a method to pry somehow.

Gordon sinks onto the couch, and Benrey leans in to look, waiting for Gordon to do his usual thing and share about himself. He smiles at the photos… and just turns the page.

Okay, maybe there wasn't anything particularly of note on that page.

The next page, Gordon's smile widens as he looks over the people pictured. Benrey's pretty sure he recognizes one of the people as a younger Gordon on examination of some of these, but Gordon doesn't say a word, turning the page again.

It takes a good few more pages of this for Benrey to get irritated by the uncharacteristic lack of explanation, and clearly, thats what Gordon was planning on, because the moment Benrey slips up and shows it a little, leaning in to look closer with a huff, Gordon's resolve cracks and he snorts.

Oh, oh so THIS was the game they're playing, then?

Benrey takes one side of the scrapbook and tugs it closer to him, and Gordon resists his effort and tugs it back, giving Benrey a knowing look as he turned the next page with a smug grin to rival Benrey's own.

However, as he looked back to the page, his face fell into a vacant stare. Benrey looked back at the pages they'd landed on, curious what had caused that reaction.

A child's crude drawing, lovingly laminated to preserve, of two figures, labeled by the drawing itself as 'me', clearly depicting Gordon… and Benrey, depicted at the age they met, long as hell rats nest hair and shadowed face and all.

Benrey _beamed._

He grabbed the sleeve of Gordon's shirt, shaking him a little as he pointed excitedly at the crude record of their history. "YOOOOOOOOOOO, it's me, bro!"

The shake seemed to reactivate Gordon, who immediately starts to stammer defensively. "This doesn't… it doesn't mean shit, it's an _elementary school drawing,_ and it- it doesn't even look that much like you. That- that says Benney, not Benrey, I told you I had an imaginary-"

Benrey's resolve to insist only grows stronger with Gordon's weak attempts at denial. "It CLEARLY says Benrey, you FUCKING- you know haircuts EXIST, right?"

Gordon squeezes his eyes closed and rubs at his temples. "Please shut up, PLEASE shut up."

"We were FRIENDS." Benrey almost pleaded.

"You are going to need more than an old shitty drawing and an old save file on OBLIVION with a very common name to convince me that we were friends, Benrey!" Gordon snapped, a little desperately.

Benrey stared back at him uncomfortably, a bit upset by how hard Gordon was working to deny it. 

Gordon's voice became a sneering one. "You want me to believe you on this? Prove it to me. Tell me something you couldn't know unless we were REALLY friends as kids."

Benrey took a minute to think, venting sweet voice in calming blue to self-soothe, the tension uncomfortable.

"I… dunno what the place was called, but it was a family campground, by a river." Benrey started, and by the way Gordon's expression grew pensive, he was already getting somewhere, and Benrey gave Gordon an apprehensive smile.

"You and me would mostly hang out on this isolated part of the riverbank, because I was afraid to talk to other people. But one time, I went with you to the camp store, because I told you I'd never had a Twinkie™ before and you would NOT let that shit stand," Benrey couldn't tell this story without smiling a little, "But y'didn't realize you didn't have enough money on you until you second guessed yourself and recounted."

Benrey's smile grew wider as he watched Gordon's brow furrow a little deeper with each detail.

"So you asked me- you asked me to distract the cashier for a second and you stuffed one of those dinky little two-packs of Twinkies™ in your bag, and used the money you brought in to buy some cheap candy- Tic Tacs™ or fuckin… Smarties™ or some shit- to not look suspicious," Benrey watched Gordon fold his hands in front of his mouth, staring into the middle distance as he continued to listen, "I got mad you wasted your whole money on some sucks candy, but then we got back to the creek, and you showed me what you did!" 

A bit of sweet voice bubbled from Benrey in a bright and vibrantly floral yellow, but he held it down to finish the story, "You were so nervous about getting caught stealing even though we ATE the evidence-"

Gordon finally spoke, voice hushed in shock, staring distantly at his hands. "That you bugged me about it on and off for three days…"

Gordon ran his hands up into his hair and Benrey clapped a hand on the back of his shoulder. His thousand yard stare was now pointing at the still turned off television. "Holy shit."

Recognition of something seemed to click in Gordon's head and he pulled away from Benrey and stared at him in bewilderment. "Hold the fuck on. Is THAT why you kept accusing me of trying to STEAL? As an _INSIDE JOKE?"_

Benrey's grin was wide, and bright and _genuine_ as he broke into bubbly, cackling laughter.

Gordon stood up and wordlessly threw his arms in the air in utter disbelief.

"You thought- you thought I was IMAGINARY!" Benrey shouted giddily between laughs, leaning toward Gordon and bouncing his legs.

The exasperation in Gordon's voice is beyond words as he points at Benrey and responds, "I didn't just think you were IMAGINARY, I thought you were a coping mechanism for my parents _DIVORCE."_

The noise Benrey makes is positively ELDRITCH, and the intensity of his laugh transcends sound to leave Benrey wordlessly, quietly shaking with laughter, sweet voice bubbling freely in a rich golden yellow.

"I can't have SHIT, can I? Sorry, Gordon, you're not allowed to have a regular person's childhood, untouched by the _absurdist nightmare_ your adult life's become!" Gordon exclaimed, the sentiment punctuated by trademark Struggling Gordon Noises as he buries his hands in his hair and his face in his sleeves.

Gordon finally slumps back onto the couch in defeat as Benrey's laughter winds down, avoiding looking an elated and VERY self-satisfied Benrey in the eyes.

Benrey throws an arm around his shoulders, and Gordon slides a hand under his glasses to rub at his eyes. "Good fucking lord, this is gonna be a long day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry gordon, the one time you almost gain the upper hand in the psychological warfare the rug gets ripped out from under you and you find out you and benrey played in the sand and the mud for real
> 
> Sweet voice translations for this chapter in Tommy's absence:  
> Like a Daffodil in Coloration means I'm Filled With Anticipation  
> Golden like honey means thats so fucking funny


	13. Chapter 13

"Okay, Gordon. You have some... reevaluation, to do." He said just to himself, popping open his mailbox and retrieving the contents and beginning to rifle through them. Bills, his hush money check for the month, advertising circulars and the like… Oh!

Gordon pulls… two fancy looking envelopes, Clearly the wedding invites, from the pile. Some part of Gordon felt weird about the fact Benrey was recieving mail at his address. One of those little mundanities that seemed to rub in his face the reality that they lived together. Gordon was getting used to it though. He could admit that much, he thought, shutting his box and beginning the walk back inside.

Its not like having him around is all that unpleasant. He's… a pain to talk to sometimes, but he'll give it to the asshole- he's entertaining, he's been shockingly respectful, and the company is genuinely appreciated. If he hadn't been put in the position of taking him in, he probably would've just… rotted away in his apartment a lot more than he has, now that he thinks about it. He didn't feel much gratitude for it- and he would NEVER admit as much to Benrey if he could help it- but it did… help.

Gordon was kind of like… a shark, with this sort of thing. Trauma. If he didn't keep moving, if he dwelled on things too much, he'd drown. That much he'd realized in just the days before Benrey had shown back up. He'd crashed and burned something awful. He couldn't sleep for shit and he'd had to sit in the bathroom in fetal position with his crowbar for moral support when his jackass neighbors had started doing fireworks for god knows what reason to avoid a complete meltdown.

At first Benrey being here 'helped' by giving him good reason to get out of the house instead of sitting and festering in the quiet of the apartment and enough background noise at night to keep his brain from completely eating itself alive with anxiety, paranoia, GUILT, of both the normal and survivors' variety, you name it. It was kind of a blessing disguised as a nuisance, really.

Now though, Benrey's presence helped another way, aside from… the incident with the blackout the other night, which he was trying not to think on too much, (and failing miserably really, that was… something, it made him feel some indescribable kind of way and he could not seem to stop his brain from wandering back to it,) Now, Benrey was keeping Gordon's mind off his own shit by… well, being kind of a trainwreck himself, as much as he did NOT seem to realize it in the SLIGHTEST. 

Maybe Gordon was being too sympathetic to a guy who'd tried to kill him once, but… It was a lot easier for Gordon to motivate himself into doing things for other people than for himself, and it was a lot easier to do stuff for himself when he was already in the process of working on it for somebody else. So putting energy into making sure Benrey was doing okay was kind of a good investment. And really, at this point, the only member of the science team who hadn't knowingly betrayed him somehow at least once was Tommy, it'd be hypocritical of him not to acknowledge that, and Benrey HAD shown surprising remorse in a way that he didn't think he could've faked. More directly than the others had, really- Oh god, wait, was THAT what that bizarre kiss attempt when they were knee deep in the powerade had been about? Trying to KISS IT BETTER? He wasn't looking forward to trying to get a straight answer about that one.

It was pretty clear to Gordon that Benrey was onto him in the hospitality department, given he'd WAITED for Gordon to make an excuse at breakfast this morning. Gordon was a forgiving man, and Benrey had somehow weaseled himself back into his good graces at least enough for Gordon to let his kindness apply to him again, and that was it. Just because they'd… been friends, for a few weeks as kids, as fucking SURREAL as that was, didn't mean shit to the here and the now. Benrey clearly had issues to examine if he was still hung up on it the way it seemed he was, not that Gordon couldn't get why he would be, considering the environment he'd grown up in. 

...God, those few weeks must've been real special to him, huh? Gordon couldn't say they were COMPLETELY meaningless to him- theres a reason he thought he was a coping mechanism rather than a real person, and that was because something he did, something he said, brought him... a strange amount of peace, despite everything that was happening then.

It put... a lot of shit into perspective. And not being able to keep himself in denial anymore about this was kind of an anxious feeling- because if THAT wasn't an incomprehensible fabrication, what else had Benrey been perfectly forthcoming about, (albeit in his own bizarre way,) that Gordon had just written off as cockamamie nonsensical bullshit?

…There was some shit he'd spouted in Xen that Gordon couldn't even really entertain the hypothetical possibility of being meaningful or true- between the dickslip claim and that farcical tangent about fucking… Reggie Fils-Aimé and Jack Tretton and a nuclear bomb, Benrey was definitely a spitter of just… word salad, from time to time. It was just a matter of what was him doing THAT, and what was a genuine expression of his thoughts and intentions expressed in an impenetrable fashion, and Gordon wouldn't be able to figure that out without learning how to read minds… or establishing some straightforward communication. Benrey being… _Benrey_ did NOT make it easy, and Gordon couldn't even try to feel guilty for not being in the headspace to try harder back when he wasn't even sure he'd live to see the next day.

But now, he had the time AND the motive. Figures his only STRAIGHTFORWARD information resource would stop responding now right when he was feeling ready to actually throw himself into the effort, rather than the begrudging thing it was to start with. That sounds about right for his luck. Gordon assumes Tommy's just busy with wedding stuff, but his timing couldn't be worse if he were TRYING to sabotage him.

As he opened the door to the apartment, Benrey peeked over at him from the couch with an unbearably smug grin, like the cat that ate the canary. "Hiya, _friend."_

"Still riding that high, huh? You've got mail." He deadpanned, waving the envelope addressed to Benrey.

Benrey perked up and made grabby hands at him. "Toss it here, _buddy."_

"Stop." Gordon replied flatly, tossing Benrey's invite at him like a frisbee and cracking a smirk when he misses catching it entirely and it hits him in the face. He doesn't pay it any mind and instead quickly gets right to opening it.

"Oh cool, Wedding's outdoors. And cocktail dress code." He mumbles, perusing the invite.

"What's that… mean again? I forget." Gordon replied, surprised Benrey seemed to know what he was talking about. Gordon had only ever really attended the one wedding, his mother hadn't remarried until pretty recently and Gordon STILL felt bad for not being able to make it- and… well, he'd never been in a relationship committed enough to get engaged, so Gordon hadn't exactly ever tried to plan one.

"It's like… semi-formal?" Benrey replied, before seeming to notice something else in the envelope.

"Be more specific, that could mean a lot of things." Gordon replied, starting to open his own envelope.

"Think uhhhhh, classy casino. Tasteful casino. Suits but not tuxes. Fancy dinner party." Benrey muttered, slipping his hand inside the envelope, then quickly pulling it back out and making a confused face.

"We've really got to set a date on the clothes shopping- What?" Gordon asked, approaching and noticing Benrey's expression, curious what had gotten that reaction.

Benrey upturned the envelope and out dumped a couple of pressed flowers onto the coffee table.

"That's… strange," Gordon commented, taking a closer look. He could recognize one of them- a white tulip, but the other two were unfamiliar. One had five white rounded petals with a slight pink hue and a yellow center. And the other was similarly white in color, with wide, layered petals in the manner of a rose, but looser in shape.

Benrey tilted his head like a confused dog as he stared at them. "I feel kinda. Threatened."

"It's… probably a setup for a game at the reception or something? Something they'll explain?" Gordon suggested, slumping onto the couch and dumping the contents of his own envelope. A pink tulip, a flower with a yellow center ringed with white whose petals turned a different shade of pink closer to their edge, a sprig of very tiny clustered white blooms, and a daffodil.

"It's pretty... Eerie, Whatever way y'shake it, though, huh?" Benrey comments, sweeping the flowers off the table and into his hand to look closer. 

"I- Yeah, no, it does feel like I'm very much not getting something here that I'm supposed to be, and I can't say I'm a fan." Gordon agreed, idly tightening his hair tie.

Benrey dumped the pressed flowers back on the table, leaned back and shrugged.

There was a pause in conversation, neither sure what else to say about the matter.

Benrey finally changes the subject. "Yo, you think I should shave for the wedding or try out a beard?"

Gordon snorts. "Why are you asking me? It's none of my concern."

Benrey made a face and looked at him, and Gordon just now notices the light stubble already present. "Because, _friend,_ your beard's kickass. And I'm asking for advice from _my good buddy_ who's got experience being a guy with a beard?"

Gordon's a little caught off-guard (and ego boosted, if he's honest,) by the straighforward compliment, so he lets the repeated emphasis Benrey places on them as friends slide unchallenged. "Oh. Well… alright, I guess."

Gordon hasn't spent much time taking in what Benrey looks like. Gordon is… fairly faceblind. A lot of appearance indicators can sometimes just… not fully register in his brain in a way that makes putting names to faces difficult and makes remembering features he doesnt actively put attention into remembering even more so, if he hasn't known someone a long time. If you asked him to describe the appearances of a lot of people he's close to, he'd have to start with things like their hair or style of dress and get vaguer and vaguer the more specific you asked him to get. It just didn't quite stick with him unless he was actively focusing on it.

So, before he can really answer with advice, he pauses to take a real look at Benrey.

…And immediately bails on that, because he is not READY, nor WILLING, to deal with the RAMIFICATIONS of the fact his first impulse thought attempting to consider Benrey's appearance more closely was _'he's a little hot, actually.'_ He hopes he didn't look away too fast. Benrey didn't seem to notice. Notice what? He didn't do anything, least of all think _those_ words, in _that_ order. What words? What _are_ words?

"…Well. You should try growing it out more and seeing how you like it, and if you're not into it, you can always just shave it off," he finally replies after an awkwardly long stall, still not looking, giving Benrey a dismissive pat on the back.

"…Was gonna do that any-way. But thanks I guess. For the subpar beard wisdom." Benrey replied, unimpressed, itching at his short stubble for a moment before tapping Gordon on the shoulder to get his attention.

He picks up a controller and wordlessly offers it to Gordon.

Gordon glances from the controller, to Benrey, whose expression seemed hopeful, and back, feeling a strange new wave of anxiety run up his spine but managing to reply calmly, gently pushing away the controller, "I… think I'll pass. For now."

Benrey looks disappointed, but shrugs it off and starts up a game by himself as Gordon retreats from the living room.

* * *

Tommy's return home from Darnold's was eagerly anticipated by Sunkist, whom spent absolutely zero time before begging Tommy for affection he gladly provides, and giving Tommy a thorough sniffing, clearly smelling Darnold's cats on him based on the huff he gives him.

"I know boy, I know, no need to be jealous," he snorts, and goes to sit on the couch so Sunkist can crush him with love, and finds his father sitting in the arm chair, idly reading a newspaper- not the local one, it seemed, given the town namedropped on the front page was Springfield, and Tommy was pretty sure there wasnt one of those in New Mexico at all. He doesn't question this. Gman travels for work a lot.

"Hey, dad." Tommy greets, "Spent the night at Darnold's! Anything happen wh-while I was out?"

"Some… notable looking, mail, came for you. I left it… on the kitchen island, for you to give it the ol'… once, over." The Gman replied, smiling over from his paper.

"G-gotcha!" Tommy replied, and Sunkist makes impatient huffy noises as Tommy switches gears to go check the mail.

It's a very cute, fancy little envelope. Classier than Tommy honestly mightve expected, given Bubby's general tackiness. Probably Coomer's choosing. Bubby would've gotten something black with a flame motif or something. Maybe leopard or tiger print.

Popping it open, before even getting to read the invite, he notices something green and bright yellow in the envelope, and plucks it out. A sprig of _Tanacetum vulgare,_ common tansy. Hm.

Gman peers into the room curiously. "Is… ssssomething, the matter, son?"

Tommy replies flatly, "It's nothing dad, I think Bu-Bubby and Mr. Coomer just- just declared war is all. Not sure what over though."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gordon says 'i am looking away' when things are inconvenient or frustrating to think about and thats fun considering he also tends to question things the way he does. King of putting himself in the position of learning more and yet less than he actually wanted to know
> 
> The flowers Gordon couldn't identify:  
> Benrey: rhododendron and gardenia  
> Gordon: eglantine rose and elderflower
> 
> The Plant Symbolism wikipedia page is bizarrely formatted and written in a way that kind of amuses me and it is useful to understand Bubby and Coomer's Floral Threats
> 
> Also, fanart! I lost my MIND over this and, judging from the uptick in comments and kudos that followed it's posting, so did a lot of y'all, lol:  
> [httpss://asthecrowrambles.tumblr.com/post/626748055359766528/a-comic-based-on-the-wonderful-story-engimatic](url)
> 
> I will probably respond to a lot of the comments on the last chapter, but it might take me a bit because i was Truly Overwhelmed by the massive show of support, lol


	14. Chapter 14

Tommy sighed over the phone, twisting the sprig of tansy in his fingers. "Di-didn't you guys both tell me a week- like a week and a half ago not to bother meddling with the whole Benrey and Gordon… situation?"

"Changed my mind. I'm allowed to." Bubby replied, "Like I said then, their embarrassing asses are going to figure things out eventually regardless. So why not make a bet of it? Whoever gets the idiots to figure their shit out first- without just telling them, thats fucking cheating- wins."

"That's- Bubby that seems- how do you even- even determine the- the win condition of that? What if they- they figure it out in private? What's even- what's even being GAMBLED here?" Tommy asked, a bit lost. This seems… remarkably poorly thought out for something Bubby and Coomer had decided to attach to their wedding invites, this had to have been some kind of last minute idea.

Bubby's quiet for a second, before giving a tentative answer to just one of Tommy's questions. "…hundred bucks?"

Hm.

…Nah, he'll pass. His vintage soda bottle collection alone was worth more than twice that.

"I don't want to play this. Our- our friends feelings aren't a thing to gamble with," Tommy replies after his pause to consider the offer, then recalls why he was ghosting them in the first place and adds, "…Besides, I'm kind of- kind of sitting on a smoking gun right now so if I played- played game I'd probably win faster than- than a snow cone melts in hell."

"Bring it ON, then!" Bubby insists.

"No." Tommy firmly replies, brow furrowed.

Bubby complains, but concedes, which Tommy appreciates. "Hrmph... Fine. Pretty shitty best man, won't humor me."

Tommy rolls his eyes lightheartedly and downs his bottle of cherry Sprite™ in the ensuing pause in conversation.

After a moment, Bubby's enthusiasm returns, flavored with an eagerness for competition. "…If you won't play, then what's this 'smoking gun' of yours? Give me an edge! I REFUSE to lose to my fiance and as my best man, you have to help me."

"I don't think that's how that… works, Dr. Bubby," Tommy said, tone uncertain, "Plus, I'm both of your best man, aren't I? Would Dr. Coomer want me to give you an unfair advant- advantage over him?"

Bubby is quiet for a moment, and then Tommy hears his voice echo as he pulls away from the phone to shout to Dr. Coomer. "HAROLD! DO YOU MIND IF TOMMY HELPS ME WITH OUR LITTLE COMPETITION?"

Dr. Coomer yells something back, cheerful, the only word of which Tommy can make out on his own from over the phone is 'bitch'.

Bubby speaks again, very matter-of-fact, "He said," Bubby starts, then briefly putting on a tone as if quoting him, "Try Me, My Good Bitch, I'll Still Win!' so yes, yes he would."

Tommy grimaces. "I can't- can't talk you out of this, can I?"

"Absolutely not." Bubby answers, nigh immediately.

…Well, at least Tommy will have the excuse that he told Bubby this in confidence ready to go. He sighs in defeat. "Strawberry Blonde means 'of you im deeply fond' and Gordon's been waiting on a translation. I've be-been ghosting them both, all day so far, to avoid telling Benrey that Gordon saw him do it, and avoid telling Gordon what it means."

The sheer depth of the disappointment in Bubby's voice is something Tommy was not expecting. "Oh my god. Thats _it?_ That's your _smoking gun?_ Tommy, I believe you _severely underestimate_ Gordon's ability to be a thickheaded baby fuck about this. Need I remind you Benrey literally asked for _hugs and goddamned kisses_ while we were in that hellish parallel dimension?"

"I mean, yeah, but Gordon's seen Benrey give me a platonic kiss before so he easily could've interpreted it that way, and it's not like- like Gordon had much time to think on it. And probably doesn't want to now. Given it- it happened in Xen. Plus, Benrey hadn't exactly made his-his previous attempts at flirting very… clear." Tommy replied, making a face. Benrey could confidently spew nonsense if he wanted, and he was pretty in touch with his feelings, but he could not say shit like _that_ with a straight enough face to be taken seriously, even if he meant it.

"I will Venmo you 20$ dollars on the spot if you can tell me how you can possibly interpret saying _'liking the view from back here'_ while looking directly at a man's ass in a platonic way," Bubby spat back.

Tommy deadpanned. "A lewd joke with no real intention behind it?"

Bubby huffed. "Whatever, I probably won't bother mentioning it, not sure why _you're_ even bothering holding onto it, but thanks anyway, I suppose. Have you sorted out the bachelor party arrangements yet?"

The two chatted idly about things like venues, and Tommy snorts when he sees a notification from Venmo, mid-conversation.

* * *

Gordon was trapped in the 'trying not to think about something, only making you think about it more' thought spiral for what felt like a very long time, trying to drag his mind away from the dangerous recognition that Benrey was _actually kind of his type a little bit_ like a character in The fucking Bye Bye Man. First he tried asking Dr. Coomer about the flowers, (and only got the first chunk of a recited wikipedia page about plant symbolism in response, which he couldn't even look up the rest of because Wikipedia was down for the count,) then spending time on social media, then watching animal videos, when his brain was finally merciful enough to latch onto something else after his Youtube recommendations served him up some crude comedy video about ostriches.

Which is how he ended up where he is now, standing in the living room, silently looking at pictures of ostriches while figuring out how to ask, because the minute he had the thought, he NEEDED to ask.

He goes with the classic opening. "I've been wondering… why did you call the pigeons… ostriches? In Black Mesa? The two animals are... very different."

Benrey didn't look away from the game- Mirror's Edge- and answered straight, "Spaced out on the. Word. Both birds, two syllables. Just kinda rolled with it when nobody, uh, said anything, y'know?"

That made enough sense that Gordon could've probably left it alone, but it brought with it the implication that Benrey seemingly mentally categorized Ostriches and Pigeons as being similar enough to _confuse,_ which leads Gordon to the one logical conclusion of that implication.

Gordon asks, as genuine and unjudging as he can manage despite the comedy he finds in the idea, "…Have you ever actually seen an ostrich before?"

Benrey's eyes briefly widen, before quickly relaxing back into mellow observation of the game. "Uhhhh, duh, of course I've seena fuckin' ostrich. Biggest bird alive, can't fly, sticks head in sand. Obviously."

Gordon felt a smile creep onto his face. "…None of those were descriptive of what they look like. And that last thing's a myth."

Benrey squints and gives a tiny, annoyed little huff, eyes still on the game, but doesn't answer.

He really doesn't know, does he?

Gordon wordlessly pulls up a video on his phone and slumps onto the couch next to Benrey, who pauses the game and eyes him strangely for a moment.

"You, uh, reconsider playing games with me, or-" Benrey starts to ask, before Gordon turns his phone to him, showing him a clipshow video of ostriches doing ostrich things.

His face scrunches up in confusion and disbelief, and then irritation, the quiet is thick, and Gordon feels the sense of anticipation build until Benrey finally smacks his lips and speaks, in hushed, offended disbelief. "…dude."

…It definitely wouldn't have made Gordon laugh as hard if it weren't for the overly long, contemplative silence that preceded it, it was such a simple reaction, but that didn't stop it from hitting juuuuust right to make Gordon crack up, covering his mouth with a fist.

Paying Gordon no mind, Benrey continues to glare in confusion at the video, taking Gordon's phone, irritated by how his wheezing was making it shake. "There's no way that shit counts as a bird, you're trying to dupe me and I'm not buying it, Gordon."

"Why would I- What motive would I have to 'dupe' you?" Gordon asked, as genuinely as he could manage with the laughter in his voice.

"Dunno, I'm not a criminal mastermind, unlike some people I know, but this thing's clearly a fucking dinosaur, not a BIRD," Benrey insisted, putting the phone down on the coffee table and pulling his feet up onto the couch.

Gordon tried to say, "I mean technically all birds USED to be dinosaurs, they evolved from them, but-"

"-yeah, and these ones still are, end of discussion," Benrey cut in to declare, with a sense of stubborn, bewildered finality, idly wrapping his arms around his legs.

Gordon gave a near soundless chuckle, and things were quiet just long enough after that that Gordon felt good about how funny it'd be to point out what the way the conversation had turned out made obvious.

"You realize you've basically admitted already you didn't know what an ostrich actually was, right?"

Benrey looked a little confused, and gave a characteristic little "Huh?" but… the pointed way he looks away…

Gordon decides to push him a bit. 

* * *

"Hey, I'm Benrey and I think ostriches aren't BIRDS."

There is a good reason that Benrey's feelings about Gordon are a bit complicated, a love-hate kind of thing. And one of those reasons are because some of his most attractive qualities could also be his most annoying ones in the right context.

Benrey and Gordon were both stubborn- he could recognize that. But they were stubborn in very different ways, and both had a tendency for tunnel vision about it. Benrey was guarded, a brick wall, but Gordon was a man on a fucking mission. Benrey admired Gordon's determination a lot of the time. This was not one of those times. If Benrey hears the word Ostrich one more god damn time after today, he will start biting people. It is not a threat, it is a promise. He has begun to loathe the mere concept of an ostrich.

But for now, having realized what Gordon is trying to do by needling him like this a while ago now, he is desperately working the fool's errand of keeping a straight face and playing dumb, to not give away any tells to one of his last lines of social self-defense- feigning inability to understand- the irritable cinnamon of brown and red sweet voice starting to burn at the back of his throat, ensuring he won't last much longer if Gordon doesn't give up. Benrey is pretty sure he isn't going to, but too stubborn himself to give in without a fight, even if he couldn't fully manage to tune out that shitty flightless bird and he was beginning to struggle to focus on the game. Benrey was barely even cognizant of whatever lazy responses he threw out there to confuse Gordon's efforts.

Then Gordon's hand is abruptly in front of his face with a perfectly badly timed snap of his fingers to steal his attention from the game, the protagonist Faith of Mirror's Edge falls off a building, and Benrey's resolve finally snaps. He puts down the controller.

"Oops." Gordon says, looking at the TV, utterly unremorseful.

Benrey pounces at him, sending them both over the arm of the couch, Gordon squawking with shocked laughter as he thumps to the ground with a soft 'oof', Benrey landing on his torso and gripping the fabric of his sweatshirt in his hands.

"Shut the _fuck-"_ Benrey starts to hiss, but a bit of brown and red sweet voice leaks and cuts him off with a growl-like note, Gordon watching the orbs float past his face. Benrey sits up, processing that he's on top of Gordon and noticing Gordon grinning smugly now that the initial shock of the tackle has quickly worn off. Benrey takes a moment to respond more calmly despite the rising blush in his cheeks, albeit with a bit of a whine, pulling on the sweatshirt, "What do you WANT from me, bro?"

Gordon continues to grin, "Oh, just wanted to confirm your 'huh? Whuh?' routine when I ask you questions you don't wanna answer was bullshit."

Benrey scowls as his face flushes red hot with embarrassment. "No fucking _duh,_ idiot."

"Just wanted to _confirm."_ Gordon repeats, a little bit sing-song, and very much teasing.

Benrey releases his grip on the bigger man's shirt to bury his face in his hands and throw his head back with a long groan.

"If you'd just been honest with me to start with, this wouldn't have happened. I would've just showed you what an ostrich looks like and been on my way. But you chose ostrich hell, and that's on you, not me, buddy." Gordon lectured.

Benrey glares at Gordon between his fingers. "I WAS honest! I- I fucking told you. I mixed up the words!"

"But then you full-on lied when I asked the follow up question." Gordon pointed out, and Benrey huffed and got to his feet, fists balled in frustration, continuing to glare.

Gordon props his feet up on the arm of the couch instead of standing, but looks up at Benrey with a softer expression than he was expecting. "...Listen, man. If you're gonna live here long term, I need to have at least the best idea you can give me about your whole… thing. So I can act accordingly to shit. I'm… willing to work with you to figure out how to do that in a way that's more comfortable for you, but this shit has to be a two way street, capische?"

Benrey shifts in place uncomfortably for a long, quiet moment.

Finally, voice coming out more vulnerable than he wants or means it to be, Benrey answers with a stipulation. "…Y'promise to let shit be if I don't HAVE an answer?"

Gordon replies immediately, "Promise."

Benrey squints skeptically back at him, before reaching down a hand to Gordon, pinkie finger extended.

It takes a second for Gordon to register what he's doing. He snorts. "…Seriously? A pinkie promise? What are you, nine?"

Benrey won't move an inch, and doesn't say a word.

Gordon rolls his eyes and returns the pinkie promise. Benrey relaxes, and takes Gordon's hand and pulls him to his feet with a hesitant half-smile.

"So… what. Wanna try like… 20 Questions or something?" Benrey asks, half joking, itching at the back of his neck.

Gordon returns a similarly awkward, uncertain smile.

"That's… a pretty good idea," He answers, then his tone changes as he rounds the couch to the cardboard box filled with his old games and gets down on his knees to get something out of it. "First things first though…"

He digs a game box- missing its cover- and the second controller from the box.

"You tried Portal 2 yet? It's got pretty good couch co-op."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benrey trudges through ostrich hell and makes it to gamer heaven on the other side, god bless
> 
> Warm brown to sharply red means my patience hangs by a fucking thread


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know at least one commenter reads this with a text to speech program, so i am so sorry in advance for all the spacers. No one taught me how to convey passing of time and/or perspective shifts any other way, lmao

"…bro. What are you doooooing."

Gordon speaks with a knowing tone. "What?"

"Stop hitting the button. I'm trying to do- I'm puzzling. I'm doing puzzle."

"But you need a box for this puzzle, Benrey."

"You already gave me box? You are stopping me from having box. Box burns up when new box is made. Listen to me."

"I'm listening."

"I'm taking this box 'cause need for puzzle. Don't hit button again or I lose box for puzzle."

"I'm aware."

"Ok. I'm gonna trust you."

Disintegration sound effect.

"...Traitor. Duncecap. _Backstabbing goon."_

He barely restrains a snort. "What did I do?"

"I told- _I fuckin' told you-"_

Gordon cracks up. "But you need a box for this puzzle, Benrey."

* * *

"…Benrey, C'mon. Stay on the button. I need to get to the next room so I can let you through."

"Say please? Could you- could you say please? Wave and say please?"

_"Please."_

"...Thank you! Finally, fuck."

"…Benrey. Why did the- the door closed. Why am I looking at a closed door, Benrey?"

"Hey, um, don't be rude? Be nice. Wave at me."

Gordon laughs, and it withers into a long-suffering sigh. "…This game was a terrible idea, we do not have the capacity to rely on eachother."

"Maybe you don't. I happen to trust you with my life, even though you're mean and you suck," Benrey replies, blowing a playfully bratty raspberry at Gordon.

He deadpans back. "You're a _recursive immortal."_

Benrey grins, knowing exactly what he means. "Your point?"

"Death doesn't stick for you. Doesn't mean much, dude."

Benrey squints curiously at him, and decides to snark. "Oh, I see. Then why'd you spend all that time patching me up last night, huh? Just wanted an excuse to be handsy?"

Benrey regrets bringing that up when Gordon pulls a genuine guilty face, not even reacting to the joke attached to the comment.

He stammers, just a little, and he doesn't meet Benrey's eyes. "I… sorry. That was kinda shitty of me."

Benrey tilts his head. Okay. Gordon's apologizing to him. They're on better terms lately, especially today, today has been great aside from Ostrich Hell, so it really shouldn't surprise him THAT much. Still not sure _why_ he's apologizing, though? "…What, for the bandaids?"

"No!" Gordon corrects firmly, "The bandaids were important. I'm sorry for implying you _staying alive_ isn't. Just because you come back. I was just telling you off for that mindset last night, and then I pull that shit myself."

Oh. Well. Hearing that made Benrey feel… some type of way. Some difficult to word, not bad, type of way. Awkwardly appreciative is still the closest he can effectively get, despite Gordon fussing over him even though he's not in any _real_ danger not being a new development. He scratched at the back of his neck. 

"…'s cool. Thanks. For the apology. Don't worry about it, really. Wouldn't even say you 'told me off,' you were being nice. Pushy nice, but… nice," Benrey finally replies, after a dreadfully long pause to compose his words, "Old habits die hard, or whatever."

Things are quiet, the air is heavy, between them for a bit… until Benrey masterfully breaks the tension by being a dick again in the next test chamber, and both are breathing a sigh of relief.

* * *

An amused sigh. "You can stop pinging the reflector box, Benrey, I know we need it."

"I noticed, you're just lagging ass about it. Get a fffffuckin' move on, we SPEEDRUNNING this one, buddy."

"Alright, alright, chill, I've got it, I'll drop it through the portal on your call, got it?"

"Yeeep. Onnnnnnn… four."

"Not on three?"

"Don't be a buzzkill."

"Mixing things up like Digimon, Benrey? Pointlessly?"

"Get that darling franchise back out of your mouth before I fight you in real life."

"What's stopping you? I'm right next to you, man."

Benrey startles slightly, just enough to catch Gordon's attention, and Gordon notices him smile to himself out of the corner of his eye… and then he notices him noticing, and shields his face with one hand.

"Eyes on the GAME, _Feetman._ Drop the box already."

Gordon can't stop himself before he thinks, _That'd be real cute if it wasn't for that stupid nickname._

God, this sure is knowledge he just has to live with, huh? That for some reason his stupid, gay little brain saw the inhuman gamer imp and went _'kinda into that, actually'_ pretty much the moment he took _half a second_ to actually think about it?

…Doesn't have to mean anything if he doesn't want it to. Gordon's adult life has already become so god damn _weird,_ man. Acknowledging that the mostly human-looking shapeshifting alien thing he _befriended when they were kids_ and _tried to kill him once,_ that he's currently playing couch _fucking_ multiplayer with like neither of those things happened is attractive is probably the least weird component of this whole fucked up equation. Still weird, fucking… granted, he knew that, but probably the least weird, especially if he _wasn't_ gonna do anything about it.

Even phrasing it like that felt weirdly loaded with implication. Noticing Benrey was attractive didn't have to be a significant thing! One can admire- appreciate- _be aware of,_ a person's attractiveness, completely platonically.

…That's absolutely true, but also he's starting to sound just a bit overly defensive, even to him-

Benrey flicks him in the side of the head. "…yo, earth to Feetman? You fall asleep sitting up or something?"

"Shit, sorry, I just. I hate that nickname so _fucking_ much I think I bluescreened for a minute. I'll drop the box if you never call me it again."

"Deal. Now DROP- hm."

"You didn't catch it, did you."

* * *

Portal 2 Co-op is a delightful shitshow and Gordon's ribs definitely hate him by now, between fits of laughter, (some at Benrey's antics, some at his reaction to his,) and an impulsive elbow jab in the ribs over a certain very pressable button. Which Benrey, to his credit, immediately backpedaled on it VERY hard, so hard it felt a little backhanded, like he thought his bones were twigs. He thinks he understands though. Benrey was STOKED to play games with him- he probably thought he'd ditch him over it. Gordon was not an only child. He'd been through worse over two-player games before. Shit, he'd been through worse over THIS game in particular. He probably couldn't convince himself to take it personally if he was trying to.

Plus, once they both got the antagonism and mischief (mostly, it was _way_ too easy to be an ass in this game,) out of their systems and were working together on the same side, Benrey was pretty fun to play a puzzle game with. He and Gordon approached things very differently, and Benrey's unconventional perspective kept Gordon from thinking too inside the box for some of the more difficult courses he doesn't remember. Weirdo's creative, he'll give'im that. He did try a little too hard to fit a square peg in a round hole with some of the solutions though, but that wasn't too big a deal. Everyone did that sometimes, and Gordon could generally get him to move along eventually.

Sooner or later though, they hit what felt like a natural stopping point to Gordon. Especially given the sun was gettin' PRETTY low, and he didn't want to cook. If he wants to pick something up, he's gotta go soon.

He stands and stretches with a yawn, "Hey, I'm gonna go out and pick up food, got any preferences?"

Benrey gives him a strange look.

Oh! Right. He's been making excuses for that. Gordon sighs, and answers the question Benrey's not outright asking, "…Yeah, I'm ready to drop pretenses, I'm just getting us fucking dinner, man. Don't read too much into it. Any preferences?"

Benrey looks pleasantly surprised, but also very unprepared. "Uh. Huh. I… uh. I dunno. Just… get me whatever you get, I guess? I trust your, uh. Judgement."

Gordon snorts and heads toward his room to change into something appropriate for going out. "Appreciate that. When I get back and after dinner, we can get to that first session of 20 Questions, alright?"

"Tonight-?" A short note of sharply high pitched sweet voice, not unlike a horror sting, cuts Benrey's thought off and makes Gordon snap to attention, but it's gone before he sees it, and the two squint at eachother. Gordon notices Benrey's lips are pursed together.

"Did. Did you eat-"

"Ye- No. Shut up." Benrey responds quickly.

Too quickly. Gordon notices a little dribble of dark, desaturated violet sweet voice run down his chin, and snorts.

"…Anyway, yeah tonight, cause I'm visiting with Joshie tomorrow," He says, then gestures to indicate his chin. "You've- you got a little something…?"

Benrey's eyes go wide and he hastily wipes it away on his sleeve with a few grumbled expletives for good measure.

Gordon heads to his room with a mean chuckle, and makes a note of the color for when Tommy gets back to him next, crossing his fingers Benrey won't try to chicken out last minute. He's feeling optimistic, despite himself.

* * *

Tommy: hey! I had a great time last night! here's hoping Evil Powerade goes over well!

No, that's too many exclamation points. Don't want to sound too overeager. Not sending it like that.

Tommy: hey! I had a great time last night! here's hoping Evil Powerade goes over well.

Does that sound confident enough in his work...? He's not sending it that way either.

Tommy: hey! I had a great time last night. here's hoping Evil Powerade goes over well!

Fuck it, thats as good as it's getting, Tommy's sending it. He flops over into bed beside Sunkist, having wanted to have this conversation a little more privately. Yes it's texting, his dad wouldn't actually be privy to anything said even if he did it in the living room unless he was literally looming over his shoulder, but still. It was a headspace thing, like going out to a cafe to work on your thesis paper to put your brain in 'I'm Working' mode. It's been a while since he's been this nervous about a guy he likes. He's usually pretty confident about these things, but then again it's been a bit since he's dated, and Darnold was a fascinating man. He didn't want to mess this up.

Darnold is typing a while. Tommy double and triple checks his message while waiting on a reply to make sure he didn't misspeak, and sure enough, it's the same, utterly banal well wishes that he couldn't possibly imagine a reasonable person like Darnold misconstruing every time he looks.

Darnold: thank you! I had an time myself.

Darnold: shit, had an *excellent* time, please don't get my ass

Tommy smiles, amused. How do you completely neglect a word like 'excellent?' He's got to be just as nervous as he is. Maybe thats wistful thinking, but Tommy's rolling with any assumption that makes this easier to pull off. God, he feels like a teenager again.

Tommy: it's no fun getting someone's ass in a one-on-one text, if this were a groupchat? maybe

Tommy: but I was thinking…

Tommy: I'm already thinking about getting together to hang out again. maybe thursday if you're free?

Darnold: Isn't that when you have your lesson with Gordon?

Tommy: ghosting them, remember?

Darnold: Right. Are you sure you… should be? I promise I was almost entirely joking.

Tommy sighs, and shifts to rest his head on Sunkist.

Tommy: as far as I see it, I've taught Gordon enough that he should have the gist of the simple stuff if he was paying attention. but not a complex enough idea of the whole that Benrey's crush will get across unless Benrey fucks up rrrrrreal bad.

Tommy: i do worry he might have been relying on my translations a bit too much instead of really internalizing what I taught, though

Tommy: but it just seems like the strongest course of action right now, you know?

Darnold: No, I completely get your logic, it just worries me. But if you're sure, I trust your judgement.

Darnold: but thats beside the point. to answer your question, I'd love to see you again.

Oh, now that gave Tommy butterflies.

Darnold: did you have anything in mind?

Tommy: we could go to the park for a while! You said you like flying kites, right? I could bring Sunkist, and you'd get a chance to meet him!

Darnold: That sounds really nice. Are you sure you wouldn't be bored though? Kites aren't exactly thrilling.

Tommy: like I said, I'll have Sunkist with me! plus, I don't know if you know this, but you're talking to a fella who had a fixation on OSHA guidelines, so if anything, I worry I might bore you! kites are cool.

Darnold: I doubt it, I'm sure they're fascinating. But I hardly feel right just going out to do just what I want to do. Do you have anything you want to do?

Considerate! He's sweet.

Tommy: if we make a day of it, we could go to the park for a while and then head over to a roller rink near my place, if you're interested!

Darnold: Oh, ive never been rollerskating!

Tommy: i'm sure you'll pick it up quick, can't be harder than jet boots!

* * *

Benrey was not generally one for panic, but then, Gordon made him feel a lot of ways that weren't typical for him, for reasons Benrey… knew, unfortunately, but tried not to think about too much, because that particular elephant in the room brings friends, and he doesn't want to humor any of those party crasher emotions with an ounce of attention.

He should've known. He should've known how good today's been meant the rug pull was coming. Of course Gordon wants to start tonight, when Benrey's finally getting a real taste of how good shit could be.

This was going to go terribly. There's no way it wouldn't. Why'd he even agree to this? There had to be some way to get out of this. Get into something, make some noise, do something destructive and distract him when he gets back with dinner. There HAD to be.

…But he didn't really… want to, and that was the scariest part. He wanted Gordon to know, and Gordon really seems to want to listen now. But the idea of that was terrifying in it's own way, to say the least. If he fucks it up… Gordon might not give him another chance. He'd already burnt through a couple in a major way, after all.

He just wanted where he was coming from to be understood without it being a whole fucking _thing,_ was that too much to ask?

Benrey picks up a controller again with an irritable sigh, just to have something else to think about until Gordon gets home with dinner. And it feels like entirely too soon that he gets back, toting burgers and fries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gordon: having a little bit of a crisis about even thinking Benrey's attractive, let alone anything else
> 
> Tommy @ Darnold: twink boutta pounce meme image
> 
> 'Deep desaturated violet' translation: nightshade means I'm afraid
> 
> Im nervous about the next chapter, because I've been kind of Building to it, so it miiiiight take a pinch longer to come out than my usual once a week update schedule ive somehow managed to maintain, bc i want to Nail it and theres a lot to cover. I write little chapter summaries with important beats to hit in a given chapter so i dont forget stuff, and the next chapter's lil summary is nearly 400 words, lol


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe a slight emetophobia warning? It doesn't actually happen but the possibility is referenced very briefly

"So uh, run how we're doing this by me, real fast, please?" Benrey asks, sitting criss cross on Gordon's living room floor, arms wrapped around a throw pillow stolen from the couch. He's still not getting why theyre sitting on the floor and not the couch, but it gave the whole affair a major slumber party aura. Benrey wasn't sure if that made him more or less nervous about this. If anything he's seen or read or been told about sleepovers is accurate, they tend to get… weird and feelings-y about stuff, and given Benrey's body had the function of emitting emotionally charged glowing noise ooze when he's feeling things particularly strongly, and that he's sitting here with the CEO of making Benrey feel things particularly strongly, definitely didn't put his nerves at ease.

Gordon fixes his hair tie, and gives Benrey an odd look. What were they talking about again?

"…We're playing twenty questions, it's really not that complicated," he replies, picking up a paper ad circular he'd brought over from the table and rolling it into a tube, "The only additional rules I've brought into things is that whoever's answering a question gets to smack the asker with this if they're being too nosy about something, and followup questions are allowed, because I'm not letting you off easy with vagueness."

"Taking turns?" Benrey mumbles, mostly to himself.

Gordon quirked an eyebrow at him. "Of course we're taking turns. 20 Questions without taking turns isn't a game, it's an interrogation. Have you not played it before?"

Benrey shoots him a suspicious, squinting glare.

Gordon holds up his hands defensively. "Hey, hey now. I was just asking. I have no intention of a repeat of Ostrich Hell. Not today. That was as unbearable for me as it was for you. And I'm pretty sure you'd bite me if I pulled that shit again."

Benrey smirks a little.

"Still though, you know how it goes?"

His face falls. "Uh, well I know it's a game where you ask questions to get to know somebody, and y'take turns, but," Benrey admits, kneading the pillow in his arms, "I dunno what's like… like is there a point system or-"

Gordon snorts, and Benrey stops to scowl at him.

"It's- sorry I just- a points system?" Gordon asks, incredulously, "How would that even be counted? You literally just ask questions back and forth."

Benrey's irritation shone through crystal clear in the way he mutters his response. "I don't- How- how the fuck does that count as a game, even? That's just talk with guidelines."

Gordon shrugged. "It was your idea and I don't have any better ones, man. Who's going first?"

"Uhhhhhhh. Rock Paper Scissors for it?"

Gordon nods. "Yeah that's- that's a fair way to do this.

Gordon throws scissors, Benrey throws rock.

Gordon and Benrey both make a face, Gordon looks up at Benrey expectantly with a clearly displeased sigh.

"…best two outta three?" Benrey offers, and Gordon rolls his eyes.

"If you don't want to ask first, say so, man."

"If YOU wanna ask first, YOU say so."

Gordon gestures vaguely, then takes his glasses off to rub at his eyes. "I don't care."

"Y'do though, clearly," Benrey replies, matter of fact, before perking up and cutting himself off, remembering something odd, "Since I'm going first- when you went all bug-eyed earlier, what was that?"

Gordon leaned away for a second and confusion painted his features. "Bug-eyed?"

"Yeah, when you turned down my offer to play games. Then like, skedaddled for all of half an hour before deciding to hassle me about pigeons and then play games with me anyway. What was that about?"

Gordons eye widen, his eyebrows twitching upward, and the hint of anxiety in his voice isnt hard to pick up. "I'm not sure what you're referring to."

Benrey squints back. "…You'd be dogshit at poker. If ya want me t'be honest, least you can do is return the favor."

Gordon's face twisted up in discomfort, brow furrowed, then he sighed. "Fine. Fine. If you want the honest answer…"

_Thwap._

Benrey barely reacts to the gentle bop on the head with the rolled up paper. "Ah."

"Mhm. Your answer is that it's none of your business." Gordon offers the rolled paper to Benrey, expression still a bit strained, "My turn."

Benrey looks over the rolled paper from a few angles, amused, before giving Gordon a fanged grin. "You recognize the power you've given me, yeah? Veto power? Kinda defeats the purpose."

Gordon huffs, and props his head up on one hand. "Yeah, and I'm trying to trust you not to abuse it."

Benrey isn't sure what to say to that, feels weird to hear Gordon outright admit hes trusting him with much of anything, so he just rests his cheek on the pillow he's hugging and dodges Gordon's eye contact. "That's kiiiinda dumb. But. I'll try not to. Lay it on me, friend."

Gordon folds his hands in his lap, and bounces his crossed legs a little bit. "Hhhhokay. First things first. What exactly… are you? I know you're not human, obviously, but that only tells me what you _aren't,_ and that's not exactly… helpful. Tommy's told me you come from biological research, like Bubby, but didn't really… clarify, and you're clearly pretty different from his situation."

"It's a loooot easier- it's like, uh, better. To define my whole sitch by what I'm not, 'cause what I am is…" Benrey replies, squeezing the pillow slightly tighter, looking up and away with a smack of his lips, "Unclear? If anybody knew for sure at Black Mesa nobody was inclined to let me or Tommy in on it beyond 'I was made there', even when I actually like, cared."

Gordon nods along, "Honestly the only surprising thing about that from what I'd gathered already is that there _was_ a time when you cared."

"Yeah, had this whole weird soul-searchy sadboy idiot emo phase about it as a teen, for like, a couple months maybe? Shit's embarrassing," Benrey snorts, picking at his teeth with his fingernail. "Black Mesa been trying to fuck around with Xen for a whiiiiile, so maybe it has something to do with it, but it's just as likely it doesn't? I'll never know for sure since most'a that info's gone, so I'm just… not human, and I'm cool with that being as far as I think about it. Could be alien, could be some kinda mutant, could be something else altogether. Don't really care."

Gordon makes a face, but before he can ask whatever follow up question sits in mind, Benrey offers the rolled paper back to Gordon, and it's gone. "My turn. You have any embarrassing teen phases I missed out on?"

Gordon looks confused for half a second, before something clicks. "Missed- oh."

Benrey gave a strained smile. "Pffft, you forget? Already?" 

Gordon slumps into a more relaxed posture, itching idly at his beard. "No, no, I just… nevermind," he says, shaking his head slightly as if to physically shake away the thought, "I had this rebel punk phase that was kind of embarrassing? Not much to comment on about it, though."

Benrey quirks an eyebrow, "What about a punk phase is embarrassing?"

"Nothing inherent, I just didn't really know shit about any of the actual... ideas of punk and mostly just used it as a vague outlet to do dumb shit and vent teen angst," Gordon replies, gesturing vaguely to punctuate, "And really didn't even dress the part. More grunge in the fashion department?"

Benrey could certainly picture it. "Aw, but that's cute, though? Li'l… baby punk you. Probably listened to Breaking Benjamin smoking on the bleachers, thinkin' about… egging a teachers house. Getting your ears pierced at a Claire's 'nd beelining to Hot Topic." 

Gordon gave a nervous laugh that told Benrey what he needed to know before he even spoke up. "…Linkin Park, actually. Still have a soft spot for it. Wouldn't be caught dead in a Hot Topic, but maybe a skate shop even though I barely knew what a skateboard was outside of Tony Hawk's Pro Skater."

Benrey snorts and Gordon offers the paper back, and Gordon shifts his posture back to something more professional looking to ask his next question. "To the best of your ability… could you _please_ explain what the fuck is up with the skeletons?"

Benrey frowned. "They're like… me. But not? But also kind of. They're sorta… new? Still figuring 'em out myself?" 

"I'm not sure what THAT'S supposed to mean-" Then Gordon stopped and quirked an eyebrow. "New? Since… when?"

"The uh… fuck did you call it… the shit that went down in the test chamber," Benrey snapped his fingers a few times, trying to jog his memory, "…renaissance casket?"

Gordon's brow furrowed, tilting his head with a curious squint as he asks to confirm, "…The skeletons have only been a thing since the resonance cascade?"

Benrey perked up in recognition and gave Gordon a lazy fingergun. "THAT'S IT. But uh, that's just the ones that aren't like… _directly_ me, though. 'Cause when I respawn, I always sometimes come back as just bones for a bit. Not sure if there's a trend. Kinda sucks, hard to like, talk, when you're just bones."

Gordon works a hand up into his hair, and Benrey wonders briefly if it's as soft as it looks, because he sure seems to like messing with it a lot. His voice comes out weary and beleaguered, "…Huh. Should be… impossible, really, pretty sure there's some important mouth parts needed for speech that bones simply do not _fucking_ have, but I've stopped questioning your relationship to what is and isn't possible at this point."

Benrey grinned. "You haven't though, because we're questioning about it right now? You used one of your twenty questions on it. Hard to say you're not questioning when you're literally questioning, idiot."

"Used one of my- Benrey, did you think we're both asking the other a full twenty questions? Like, for a total of forty? It just goes until the game fizzles out."

Benrey responds with a bitter hiss of brown and red sweet voice.

Gordon smirks and makes grabby hands at the paper, "Fine, fine, we've established you haven't played this before. Gimme."

Benrey gives it up and twiddles his thumbs in consideration of what to ask next for a moment before catching Gordon staring at his face out of the corner of his eye. "Something… up?"

Gordon squints, looking uncertain. "...Not sure? I'll… let you know."

Benrey looks him over, clicking his tongue. "Okeydoke. That's not, that's not weird at all. But uh…" Benrey considers, trying to think of what to even ask, before he recalls something, "Oh, what's… what's your son like? Since I might meet the lil guy."

Gordon looks confused, but in a pleasantly surprised kind of way, and Benrey's calling that a win.

Gordon spoke, voice fond, "He's… a really sweet kid. He likes farms and horses and cowboys a whole lot. He doesn't like to be told no, but what kid does? He listens and speaks really well for his age, and he's pretty much all questions, about everything, all the time-"

"You've got that in common." Benrey comments, fiddling with the dangly bit on one earflap of his chullo with a lazy smile.

Gordon smiles warmly, and Benrey's treacherous heart flutters a little at the sight. "Hah, you haven't seen shit 'til you've seen this kid curious about something, he gets PERSISTANT," Gordon's voice grew nearly _bubbly,_ "I love it to death though, it's fun to indulge his curiousity, even if sometimes the words 'why' and 'how' ring in my ears."

Benrey snorts at the lighthearted snark, Gordon's smile falters, and Benrey's does as well, unsure why the smile's leaving. Smile come back please?

Gordon itched at the back of his neck, bubbliness gone, replaced with slight irritation. "I shouldn't ramble, we're trying to do something here."

"Whuh? Huh? Why though, what's up?" Benrey prodded. Why the sudden mood turn?

"I'm not about to keep rambling about my kid to someone who thinks he 'looks a bit shit', is what's up." Gordon replied, matter-of-fact.

Ah, shit. Well, Benrey didn't expect this to come up, but while they're being honest…

Benrey smacks his lips. "Y'see, I uh. I'm not just a gamer, I also have a hobby interest in uh. Photography."

Gordon's face twists up in confusion. "How in the _fuck_ is that supposed to be _relevant?"_

Benrey feels his cheeks grow red with embarrassment, tasting strong peppermint sweet voice burn in his throat. He staves off venting it long enough to say, "Rotate it in your brain for a minute."

For a few moments the only sound in the apartment was the bell-like chime of white and red sweet voice, while the gears turned in Gordon's head.

He hugs the throw pillow tighter and braces himself when he sees the connection finally click on Gordon's face. Gordon's voice is disbelief and amusement at once. "No… you weren't talking about-!"

Benrey smiles weakly.

Gordon presses his hand against his mouth to muffle the way he wheezes, but it's clear he's laughing by how his eyes squeeze shut and his body gently shakes, and by the sound of the humor winding down in his voice when he finally speaks, throwing his hands out in front of him for emphasis.

"Benrey, what were you _thinking_ when you said that? What other conclusion was I supposed to _draw?_ Nobody hears someone say a picture of their _son_ 'looks a bit shit' and assumes you're talking about the _literal quality of the photo!"_

"Yeah, well maybe they should." Benrey flatly asserts, loosing more white and red, and Gordon cracks up all over again.

Gordon goes to get a bottle of Powerade from the fridge, (after another… odd, lingering look at his face, which is starting to make him nervous, what is it _about,)_ and when he returns, to Benrey's disappointment, it's right back to business. He'd been enjoying Gordon's fatherly rambling. It was sweet.

"Okay… so. Next thing I wanted to ask," Gordon starts after taking a hefty swig of his drink, now sitting on his knees, "What's the extent of your powers? I've seen you pull… a LOT of different shit."

This one's kinda fun, actually. Benrey could gladly demonstrate his cool abilities. So far this has been goin'… surprisingly well. "Oh, Gordo want the Skills List? No prob."

Benrey leaned back a little, trying to recall everything, counting things out on his fingers, "There's uh, the no-clip, stuff i can do with sweet voice like calm down blue, the shapeshifting… that shit kinda itches though. You've seen me float before, yeah? I can teleport, which is cool-" 

Benrey scrambled up to his feet, excited, as he realized something. "Oh shit, never showed you this one!"

Benrey cleared his throat and breathed a short jet of blue-tinted fire into the open air of the apartment, earning a startled yelp from Gordon as he falls over on his back leaning away too fast, and Benrey beams down at him.

Gordon stared up at Benrey, unamused. "Please warn me before you do shit like that."

Benrey sits right back down, propping one arm up on his knee and still grinning at first, before feeling a pang of worry that it might've been a bit much. Gordon's tone when he speaks again is pretty jokey, if still exasperated, so Benrey tries not to stay worried about it.

"Is- is being some kind of firebug like, a default trait Black Mesa programs into it's bio projects or- or was it just luck of the draw that you and Bubby both have fire bullshit going on?" Gordon replies, gesturing vaguely to all of Benrey.

Benrey shrugs and passes back the rolled paper. "Works different for me than him though, I gotta tap into… some angry. Some passion. Think he can do it just, like, whenever? Haven't asked."

Gordon gives another long-suffering sigh. "Gotcha. What's your next question?"

Benrey was kinda… underprepared for this whole exercise, having spent the time Gordon was out getting dinner very deliberately _not_ thinking about it, and he'd… kind of exhausted all his good ones he did have for stuff that's… relevant to anything right now. But his thoughts were lingering on his powers after the last question, so an old curiousity that'd been pulled back into mind a week and change ago is the first thing to come to mind.

Benrey tried to sound casual. "Did you, uh… mean it? That time when y'said my voice is beautiful?"

"How the fuck did-" Gordon responded reflexively, before scrambling to cover his tracks, "I don't know what you're talking about."

That told Benrey what he wanted to know, and he was feeling a little giddy about it, he wouldn't lie, even if there was also a little bit of a sense of dread there too, y'know, just for flavor. Gordon could be kind of an open book sometimes, so Benrey didn't really need him to say it. But it'd be more fun to try and make him admit it. And good payback.

Benrey leans forward, propping his chin up on one hand. "Okay, but like, answer me please? I would like an answer please?" 

Benrey watched as Gordon's eyes shot between him and the rolled paper in his hands a few times in consideration before swiftly giving him a gentle _thwap_ on the head with it.

Benrey's eyes flicker shut for a second on impact but there's no flinch, and he stares at Gordon, and pours as much Knowing Tone into his voice as he can manage.

_"Interesting."_

Gordon's eyes go wide and he makes a strangled noise that spirals into a groan as if very suddenly realizing he'd given the game away. His tone is defeated when he speaks again. "Man… shut the fuck up."

Benrey gives an amused little huff, and that's all he needs to give before Gordon cracks and gets defensive.

"Look- first of all, it's- ugh," Gordon's face is hidden in his hands, glasses pushed up, "I didn't think you'd fucking hear that. Not amid all the fucking gunfire? For god's sake _how_ did you hear that while you were singing- whatever. Yeah, fine, I said it. Are you happy?"

Yes, yes he was. "Didya _mean it_ though?"

"Why the fuck would I have said it if I didn't, jackass?" Gordon replied quick and impatiently, as if trying to speedrun the embarrassing ordeal of admitting as much, glaring between his fingers.

Benrey can't help but smile, and he sings a few pretty little notes of sweet voice- pink to yellow to green- as an outlet to keep himself from bashfully giggling over the admittance, because good god, if that was how he responded, the jig would be up in no uncertain terms. Even Gordon would get suspicious, no matter how much he's written off Benrey's feelings being of… that nature he refuses to name. But pink-yellow-green didn't inherently have the same implications, so Benrey was pretty sure it was safe for him to see.

Gordon saw the orbs, and then immediately his gaze shot to Benrey's face, and Benrey felt his stomach do a somersault and his brain try to screech to a halt, flip over into a ditch and catch _fire_ when Gordon, inexplicably, leaned in weirdly close.

Benrey heard what he said, he said something along the lines of, "Holy shit, I was so focused on the orbs that I never noticed, your eyes change fucking color, man!"

But did he process it at ALL right now? Not in the slightest. Which is why, his brain lagging to hell and back like Crysis 3 on a shit computer, his stupid ass responds to the sudden proximity with a jokey, "Whuh, you wanna kiss or something?"

Gordon recoils, suddenly self aware of the closeness, but as Benrey stares and tries to get ahold of himself, instead of sputtering defensively, Gordon gives a dismissive huff and has the fucking nerve, the _gall_ to reply the way he does.

With a roll of the eyes, and a clear and distinct, purposeful irony that didn't do anything to annul it's impact, "Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you?"

Suffice to say, the feelings welling up in Benrey's throat were unbearable. He shoots to his feet, carefully squeaks out that he needs to use the bathroom, and bids a hasty retreat to sing those colors in _private,_ because trying to just swallow this much sickly sweet would make him _puke._ Stupid sex jokes were one thing, this was a whole other. And he wasn't supposed to do it _BACK._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I took an extra week to write this and i'm still gonna have to split 20 questions into two chapters, lol. Blame depression and also these clowns for being too fun to write bantering incessantly
> 
> Fun fact! Neither of them actually know how to play 20 Questions. What they're doing is The 21 Questions Game. 20 Questions is just a 'guess what object im thinking of' game where each question is aimed at helping you figure out the object whomever's 'it' is thinking of.
> 
> Translations:  
> White and Red like a blushing bride means 'I am feeling mortified'  
> Pink and Yellow to Green like tea means 'you flatter me.'


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: discussions of mortality, anxiety, brief child neglect mention? If theres anything else people think should be warned for, don't hesitate to comment. Hope the length of this badboy makes up for how long it took to come out, lol

Gordon's been sitting for a good, hm, ten minutes, sipping Powerade on the floor, absentmindedly scrolling through his social media, and feeling... pretty distinctly awkward. Wondering why Benrey ran away to the bathroom like that and feeling the urge to check a watch he wasn't wearing.

He'd gotten close to get a better look at his eyes, trying to confirm what he'd noticed- when he was using the sweet voice, his eyes changed color to match it, for whatever reason, and that was weird and interesting as hell to look at! But of course, because it was Benrey, he took the opportunity to do his little flirting joke again, and given Gordon's recent little… realization, he'd flinched a bit more than usual before he'd thrown it back at him, but aside from that, Gordon wasn't sure what couldve provoked that response. It's not like he hasn't thrown out a counter thats humored the bit before. He's still not sure why he felt like saying that thing about sucking back in Darnold's lab. Chalk it up to blood loss induced delirium, maybe? He remembers feeling way more lucid than he rightly should have been if that was the reason. Way more lucid than he should've been then in general, really, not that he was complaining.

He'd have to reexamine his assumption that Benrey didn't want him to know about more sweet voice meanings, as he'd rather comfortably done a few new ones he didn't recognize- context told him brown and red was probably something along the lines of angry? But that just begged the question of why that shade of pink the other night was something he didn't want him to see. He should really crack his lesson notes back open if Tommy doesn't get back to him soon. He should've _been_ cracking them open at home already, really-

…The humming tones alternating in pitch and sound from the bathroom were a little distracting. Gordon was curious what that was about, what colors he's singing, but he's trying his best not to pry into stuff Benrey isn't keen on sharing. Don't want him getting too defensive. It's a good thing sweet voice dissipates though, because otherwise it sounds like it'd look like fucking Splatoon in there. 

He'd mostly introduced the paper rule for Benrey's sake, hoping the option to veto would make him a little more comfortable to talk, but so far Gordon's the only one who's had to use it. The fact that Benrey noticed some of the shit he'd noticed had caught Gordon pretty off-guard, but then, Benrey always does, doesn't he. He's still trying to puzzle out in his head how the fuck he could've heard the voice thing, and he'd been specifically counting on him not noticing anything was up when he'd noticed… what he'd noticed on the couch. If he doesn't think the words, he can ignore it and hopefully he won't blurt out anything stupid.

He was feeling pretty proud of himself for how well he'd handled the question about Joshua- when Benrey asked it, it clicked that there might be more to the 'bit shit' thing, because he'd brought up meeting him and seemed a touch nervous even asking, and from what Gordon's learned so far, Benrey was starting to look like he was a _deeply_ awkward motherfucker who simply does not fully think through the implications of the things he says and does from the perspective of a person who doesn't know what's going on in his head sometimes, though to what degree thats intentional on his part was admittedly still up in the air.

He was more convinced when Benrey seemed to listen pretty intently as he talked about Joshie. He seemed interested in making a good first impression- something he definitely wouldn't be if he was some kind of kid-hating weirdo. He played the part of irritable, assuming he was wrong just in case- and Benrey gave him the missing piece to put the, _very funny,_ truth together by himself. However long Benrey is a part of his life, he's not living that one down. Score one for Gordon. Maybe 20 Questions _could_ have a points system!

He was a bit less worried about him meeting Joshie with it in mind. Still a bit worried, of course, because 'doesn't hate kids' does not necessarily translate to 'good or even adequate with kids,' but less worried.

What he'd learned so far tracked pretty easily with the recontextualized picture of who Benrey actually was that was beginning to develop for him. An odd little man who didn't understand a lot about himself, but developed functionally under a microscope and got a little too deep into the bit once he figured out if he was placidly cryptic and infuriating enough, people would stop asking him questions he couldn't answer, and eventually that started to extend to ones he could, but either couldn't answer _well_ and so it was uncomfortable to try, or simply didn't want to for one reason or another. It was a vague picture, but a picture nonetheless. To get to the meat of things, Gordon would have to get to harder questions.

Oh, Benrey's coming back. Gordon had gotten deep enough in thought he'd tuned the music out and missed it stopping. He looks… oddly stressed out, maybe even a bit sick, and his eyes have sort of a deer-in-headlights look about them. Very 'stunned animal.' Gordon gives him a shy little wave as he makes his return to the space on the floor he'd occupied, tugging the blanket Gordon gave him off the couch. He wraps himself in it as he sits himself down and hugs onto that pillow again, back against the couch.

Thinking of the events that led up to him fleeing the living room, he took a second to try and catch a peek at his eyes, but what color was there was so faded into his normal eye color- an extremely neutral shade of grey he'd caught on to between trying to confirm his observations- it was difficult to discern specifics. All he could tell was one eye looked slightly pink tinted and one looked slightly blue tinted, and if Gordon recalls correctly, both colors are contextual, so that doesn't really tell him much of anything solid. Oh well.

"…So what was that-" Gordon tries, only to recieve a swift _bap_ on the head with the paper and a weary look. He jinxed it.

He sighs. "…Alright. Not my business. Can I ask if you're okay at least?"

Benrey sucked in through his teeth before replying, voice flat. "Don't worry about it, I'm uh. I'm cool. We're good."

Okay, so probably not, but it wasn't Gordon's business, so he wouldn't pry, even if he _really_ wanted to. "Does that count as my question for this turn?"

Benrey casts his eyes around the room wordlessly for a moment, then shakes his head, "Nah. 'Sides, I don't have other questions… prepped. So I wouldnt really know what t'ask anyway. Go ham."

Gordon starts to bite his nails for a second before stopping himself. Bad habit. "Allllrighty, let's see… so. How did you and Tommy get to be friends?"

Benrey perked up just a little bit. "Oh, that's easy, Tommy was basically paid to babysit me when Black Mesa first hired him, and he was the first person who had the job who was actually like, cool? He convinced Black Mesa to get me my first console for my dorm, actually. 'Enrichment' or whatever was the excuse."

That tracks with what Tommy told him. Tommy only started working there when Benrey was a teen though, if Gordon recalls correctly. "What was wrong with the previous ones? Just didn't connect?"

Benrey clicked his tongue and frowned. "Mmmmm, no- well that's part. Part of it. They were all boring old smarty type guys. But they were also nosy as hell and didn't really treat me like... A person with feelings and stuff going on?" His voice hushes slightly, "Like sure, I could be a brat kid, rude little pest growing up, but that's hardly…"

Maybe noticing he'd been a bit more vulnerable than intended, Benrey trailed off and quickly tried to downplay the statement, but Gordon could see that's what it was. An attempt to downplay that only confirmed the implication. "It's, y'know, it's whatever. That's what was kickass about Tommy. Treated me like people even though he kinda got shit for it. Smart without being like, a dick about it."

It seemed every single time Black Mesa even _came up_ Gordon found a new reason to hate it. Child neglect was not out of character from that fucking cesspit. He'd suspected as much, Black Mesa hadn't exactly seemed like it was _capable_ of providing a healthy childhood, but that sounded like a pretty clear confirmation. He'd intended this to be a light line of questioning to get Benrey comfortable again, but he really should've expected asking anything even tangentially related to the facility might go like this. The pit of righteous anger forming in his gut may have leaked into his tone a little bit when he brought in his next followup question. "…'Got shit for it?'"

Benrey twiddled his thumbs uncomfortably, "Oh, yeah, Tommy's a real one. Went to bat for us weird labfolk to get treated nicer. Worst of it missed me though, really. In uh, bio research they had a mean nickname for him about it. Called him HR."

Gordon squinted for a second, and then it clicked. "…Oh, that's fucked."

Benrey stretched out and rolled his neck, then grimaced. "Yyyyyyeah. It was pretty sucks."

"Every new thing I learn about Black Mesa makes me happier that place is dead." Gordon remarks with a bitter sneer.

Benrey squirmed in place a little, face scrunched up in discomfort, and Gordon felt a twinge of sympathy. "You want a hug, man?"

Benrey's eyes quickly glanced up to look him in the face, expression strained but unreadable. "…Pass. Feels unreal though. Black Mesa bein' out for the count this time."

A sinking feeling. Benrey's words seeming to confirm a fleeting thought he hadn't seriously considered. "…This time? There were… other times?"

Benrey smacked his lips and itched at the back of his neck. "Yeah. Just. Emergencies. Just happened sometimes! Zombies, the cyber-mutt incident, bigass lab fires... Res Cas was pretty normal shit, for a while. We were on a good streak before it! About a good year and a half without shit goin' sideways."

Benrey snorts, looking away as if to recall something, "Tommy went off to me about how unsafe some of the ways the place cut corners was a few times. Good reason they were making some of their own scientists. Nobody should work at Black Mesa. Pretty much only bother to pick up new hires at all if they've got ideas they wanna play with."

"…Like my thesis," Gordon replied weakly, "They… they scouted me right out of college because of my thesis. The experiment that led to the Resonance Cascade was _based_ on my thesis. It was supposed to be pure theory but… they wanted to test it. They barely even briefed me on the mechanical aspect of the experiment, they really only told me what they needed me to do… Overtime and pressure from the higher-ups had me too stressed to even question it."

"Sounds par for the ushe," Benrey replies casually, before frowning and mumbling, "Y'ever notice how the short way of sayin' usual is impossible to spell in a way that looks right?"

Gordon kind of hates how much sense it all makes. Why such a prestigious well funded and secretive facility wanted _him_ before he'd accumulated _any_ real experience. How long it took despite what seemed like _apocalyptic_ circumstances to him for the science team to start letting classified information slip. Bubby's comment about 'perfecting his run' was probably a joke about how often he'd been through similar evacuation circumstances. Clones and _fucking_ prototypes.

Benrey's comment about Black Mesa not giving a shit about bodies while he was patching him up last night. Benrey's general lack of concern altogether. The dude was functionally immortal and he'd seen those situations many times before. Maybe all his life, even. Of course he wasn't taking it all seriously. It might as well have been a school fire drill to him.

Gordon was new and still respected his new workplace, even if he was realizing things like his overtime hours were shitty. He had no idea what dwelled in the depths of that hellhole. Of course he didn't know.

They'd been operating on foundationally different perspectives about the _entire ordeal_ from the start.

Gordon couldn't decide if the first time something catastrophic happened while he was working there being the thing that took the place out was good luck or bad luck, because on one hand if it was good luck it sure as _fuck_ didn't feel like it, and if it was bad luck then it sure was bad luck with the net positive outcome of taking the whole godforsaken place down with it.

Benrey's tone betrays concern his words wouldn't communicate on their own. "…Yo, why are you shaking?"

Gordon heaves a heavy, rattled sigh, and runs a hand into his hair, the weight of understanding contrasting hard with the relief. He hadn't even noticed he was shaking before Benrey said something. He gives Benrey a strained smile. "Hey, I know you don't want a hug, but would you mind giving me one? Because I could use it."

Benrey looked him up and down, then nodded and moved with an eagerness that made Gordon curious why he turned the previous offer down. He got to his feet and helped Gordon up, and hugged him tight, and Gordon gratefully returns it. Benrey's not half-bad at hugging- just the right amount of pressure to the squeeze, and hes just the right height that he can rest his head comfortably against Gordon's shoulder. He… could get used to this. As much as it feels strange to admit, even just internally, Benrey was kind of a friend he liked the idea of having. Today's been… good.

Certain factors still left him… just a bit reluctant, to get attached to that feeling, to say the least. His arm itches.

Eventually, Benrey gently pulls away, and Gordon ignores the slight gut-feeling sense of disappointment that it didn't go longer and chooses instead to focus on how tired he felt. Benrey picks at his nails and looks at the floor. "I thought of a question. So uh, my turn now. You asked me like, three straight, jabberjaw. Ramblin' ass."

Gordon snorts and rolls his eyes, glad to hear he's feeling up to being a little bratty, feeling a little less shaken himself. His voice gave away his weariness. "Alright. Two of those were followups, but alright. Shoot."

Benrey sat on the arm of the couch. "Sooooooo. How much do you remember about… when we were kids?"

"Ah. Well uh. Not much," Gordon admitted, sitting and laying down on his back with his knees up, one crossed over the other, staring up at the ceiling and folding his arms behind his head. "I remember beats of the twinkie heist, and uh, very vaguely, you comforting me after… yeah. After my parents told me they were getting a divorce. Not a whole lot else. Getting dunked in the river at one point? Can't remember if that was you or my brother."

"It was me." Benrey replies, a little bit impish, gently kicking his legs.

Gordon rolls his eyes. "Of course it was. Honestly, It surprises me you remember in enough detail to tell stories. Didn't think you'd have a good longterm memory. No offense."

Benrey scratches at his stubble. "None taken, I know I'm a spacey dude. But it depends. My memory's priorities are kinda fucked sometimes? Couldn't tell you the names of even a quarter of the people I knew at Black Mesa, even ones I liked, but I could probably recall a lot of Tommy's funfacts about like, wasps or Beyblade at request. And also the entirety of the ZooPals™ commercial from memory?"

Gordon cracks up a little at that. "I can… relate, actually. But yeah. There's a reason I was able to write you off as imaginary. Between how short the time was we knew eachother, the fact noone could corroborate your existence, my passing obsession with E.T., the stress of my parent's divorce and uh, general childhood loneliness, on top of whatever weird alien shit you showed off then," Gordon continued, counting out the reasons on his fingers as he went, "I guess it was pretty easy for me to draw the conclusion after enough time had passed that I'd just… dreamt you up." 

"Makes sense," Benrey mumbles back, "It, uh. Took me a sec to recognize you. I mean, seeeeeeemed familiar from the start, so I just assumed you were someone I knew and was havin' difficulty remembering? But then I heard your name, and it hit me. Still doubted it a little, 'til I saw that expired-ass passport. Didn't want to… to put you in a weird position by being all like 'ay, you remember me?' directly since we like, hadn't seen eachother in… what, almost twenty fuckin' years? So I tried to be… slick about it, yanno? Referenced stuff a little, joked around like I knew you and we were buds, hoped it'd jog your memory. The digimon argument the other night. We've had it before."

"Ah." was about all Gordon could muster up to say.

With that, the conversation died off, it had become kind of unclear what else to say, and neither had much in the way of ideas, so they just… sat in the low-light of the apartment, an awkward and melancholy atmosphere floating in the air for awhile. Gordon contemplated, and a morbid curiosity got stuck in mind. He's not sure how the steps in the thought process led him there but when he got there he couldn't leave.

Gordon sat up to look at Benrey. "…Hey, how does- how the hell does the logistics of your respawning thing work with like, aging? If you age normally, what happens when you get old enough to die of old age? Do you-"

Gordon's question is met with a hiss of sweet voice- purple and yellow and red- and a flurry of frantic _thwaps,_ Benrey swatting at him with the paper circular. "What is your _problem,_ don't make me fuckin' think about that!"

Gordon can't help but crack up a little as he shields his face from the ineffectual paper onslaught. _"SORRY!_ Sorry! Jeez…"

Benrey folded his arms and glared silently, scowling. When he speaks again, he points an accusatory finger at Gordon. "There's some shit I _cannot_ let myself think about too hard or I can't stop and it gets me feeling _sick,_ bro. Gets stuck on loop like an AI with a paradox. Not fucking cool. Guhhhh."

Gordon furrowed his brow in confusion and concern. "…Benrey, that kind of sounds like an anxiety spiral?"

"Bneh, mleh meh meh meh," Benrey replies intelligently, irritably mocking with a talking hand gesture, punctuating the sentiment by blowing a raspberry and flopping backwards off the arm of the couch onto its' cushions, earning a weak laugh from Gordon.

He shakes his head with a smirk. "You can be such a _child,_ dude. It's way too late, I'm aware you have feelings that aren't confusion or self-satisfaction, pack up the act already. Get a therapist."

"You first, idiot." Benrey retorts like a toddler, and leaning to look, Gordon sees him pulling on his hat's earflaps so it covers his eyes.

Gordon, bitterly snarky, throws back, "Psh. I fucking _wish._ Dude, most of the shit I need to talk to a therapist about is shit that patient confidentiality does _not_ cover. Tell me how you explain that you've _lost track of your body count_ and that _kinda fucks you up to think about_ to a therapist without getting the death penalty and I'd go in a _heartbeat."_

Benrey gestures vaguely, but with passion, in the air before letting his arm fall and hang over the side of the couch with a grunt.

"…What?" Gordon asks, lost as to what that was supposed to mean, and then shortly after, "Oh." when it occurs to Gordon that it wouldn't be any easier to explain that you've lost track of how many times you've _died._ Or like, a solid chunk of the other foundational issues Benrey seems to be operating under. Point taken, fair enough. Maybe Benrey was a bit more self-aware than Gordon was giving him credit for.

It's not quiet for long before Benrey speaks up again, "Ask me another question please? Before I get hung up on shit?"

Gordon jolts to attention. "Oh, uh, okay, I- Okay."

Frustratingly, the vague sense of urgency implicit in helping to avoid a spiral was enough to have done a complete system wipe of anything helpful from mind, not that he'd had much success coming up with lighthearted questions since he'd burned through his practical ones.

Gordon knows it's monumentally stupid the second he registers what came out of his mouth. "What's it like when you die?"

Gordon's face grows red hot with embarrassment, and he can't bring himself to speak as Benrey sits up to look at him, eyes wide with disbelief and just absolutely, completely fucking loses it. A rich and violent cackle, teary eyes, he sends himself flopping backwards onto the couch again with a jet of LOUD white and navy sweet voice, and Gordon can't tell if him falling off and slamming onto the floor was a genuine mistake or done for effect, because either way it does nothing to stifle him as he continues to laugh, facedown in the carpet.

Above the din of laughter, Gordon weakly manages, "Not… my finest moment."

Benrey flips himself over and holds himself up on his elbows to look at him and exclaims, "You _THINK?"_

Gordon downs a deep swig of Powerade, resigning himself to this. "Y'know, after that, I'm not sure I always do?"

Benrey gets back on the couch, lying on his stomach, arms folded on the armrest as he stares at Gordon in grinning bewilderment. "How the fuck did you think that would _help?"_

Gordon was honestly just as confused as he was in that department. "I don't know! I thought the spiral would be about the what if scenario? My brain was stuck on the death topic!"

Benrey shook his head in his hands.

Gordon chuckles a little at his own expense. "Bit of a Gordon Dumbass Moment. I will own that!"

"How the fuck am I supposed to respond?" Benrey's voice is a hysterical whine, folding his hands under his chin, eyes fondly baffled, "Yeah, no, contrary to pop belief, feels cool and great actually. Love _death and dying!"_

"I meant like in a fucking- light at the end of the tunnel way, I'm not _that_ dumb!" Gordon tries, but Benrey just squints at him with a bemused smile and another wave of embarrassment floods Gordon's system.

Gordon starts to get up, trying and failing to hold off a smile, "I think I've embarrassed myself enough for one day, I think I'm gonna go to _bed-"_

Benrey moves lazily to grab at his arm to keep him there and Gordon casually dodges and walks away toward his room. "Noooooooooooooo," Benrey begs in an intentionally pathetic, comical kind of way, humor still crystal clear in his tone, "You get back here and ask me a _real fucking question_ or so-"

A note of sweet voice rings out, and Gordon would've written it off as probably being humor, or confusion, or something along those lines, if it weren't for Benrey immediately shutting up, so he turns back to look. 

Whatever it was, Benrey'd hidden it effectively, and a hand is firmly clasped over his mouth, his expression mirroring the almost-nauseous one he'd come out of the bathroom with.

"You… okay?" Gordon asks on reflex, and Benrey gives a too-eager nod without looking at him.

Gordon notices he left his Powerade on the floor, and uses it as an excuse to double back without Benrey getting suspect. As he leans down to grab it, he sneaks a look at Benrey's eyes. Pink and blue. Whatever that meant _had_ to be why he was acting funny. Whatever it meant clearly bothered him, and he was decidedly not wanting to share.

Maybe his gaze lingered on Benrey's face a little too long, though, because he makes an irritable noise and slaps his other hand over his eyes, face scrunching in annoyance. Instead of just… closing them. Fucking doofus.

Gordon gets up, and goes to head toward his room again, but Benrey speaks up, hushed in a way Gordon had started to notice was how Benrey usually communicated sincerity. "…hey."

Gordon turned back toward him, noticing his hat had been pulled back down over his eyes and smiled at him, expecting him to confess to the meaning of the colors he'd seen. "Yeah?"

"…First apology was. Bad."

This is… a weird turn for the conversation to take. While Gordon had been thinking about asking questions about… it, he'd kinda decided against opening that can of worms for their first little AMA session. His face falls.

"Meant it, but didn't want to nut up and say it. Only did 'cause you caught me. And I didn't really. Explain anything. Or apologize for… all of it. Only apologized for… y'know. Your arm," his voice is stiff, and the guilt in it is thick despite it's matter-of-factness, "Xen was... I was being… stupid. Misunderstood a lot of things, I think."

"What... do you mean?" Gordon asked, unsure of his motivation to just… start dumping this? Unprompted?

"So- So like. The arm thing was- it was weird. Bubby pitched it t'me like, like a mean prank, 'cause I knew the bootboys and they were cool with me, 'cause I had some ex-PS+ buddies in their unit, and neither of us really knew… how far they'd go, but that's not- its not an excuse." Benrey started as Gordon sat down, settling in for the explanation, and Benrey quickly qualified, "And I'm not trying to- like to pin it- to pin this shit on Bubs, that'd be fucked, getting a guy beat up as a payback prank is a way shitter reason than doing it to protect the rest of the group, and that's what. That's what he was doing, y'know? 'Cause of your suit trackers."

"Payback- payback for _what?"_ Gordon sneered, but he was honestly still more confused than he was mad about that assertion. Gordon's real fucking lost here?

"I was doin' my job like I was supposed to, and you were bein' mean to me for it, acting all… meh meh meh, 'can't trust Benrey, I won't go to passport inspection.' I don't… I'm not mad anymore, 'cause I get it, can't emphasize enough that I get it, but I was. You hit me. 'N shot at me. Wished I stayed dead. Even before you saw me hanging around the military, which like, I get the suspicion there, but before it? You were s'pposed to have your passport, new company policy, needed it for additional identity verification for big classified stuff. I _was_ bein' nice letting you in anyway. After whoever the guy manning the Vox system was… quit asking about 'em, I mostly only brought passports up as a goof. Me and the team made a running bit of grilling you for it, since you got so heated about it."

…God, it's hard taking this conversation as seriously as it deserves with Benrey's hat pulled over his fucking eyes. Gordon's brow furrows.

Benrey continued with a grimace, "After… after. Coomer said to get out of there, and Bubby tried to lead us around himself, but we split up fast. He's not very… good at the leader thing, not like you, or Tommy, and Tommy was really upset, and Coomer was actin' off, and when they both ditched us, I didn't… didn't see much reason to stick together either. The band kinda fell apart without'cha, man."

That… hm. Gordon pressed his fist against his lips like _The Thinker,_ contemplating. Bubby does seem like he'd lie about getting knocked out from the start rather than admit to poor leadership skills, but he definitely got knocked out and put back in the tube _eventually._ In this account, because he'd been left by himself, rather than his claim of getting knocked out right after Gordon went in the room. 

This is like, the fourth account he's heard of what happened after he got dragged away, and this one's pretty consistent with the others- Tommy runs away, Coomer ditches them to set up that fucking clone ambush, Benrey disappears to god knows where. It makes sense Bubby would've spun things slightly, he _was_ trying to convince the team to help him with getting out of that fucking tube. It certainly made him not throwing Benrey under the bus harder stand out in mind, though. He easily could've. Gordon went into that conversation thinking Benrey was probably the mastermind, but Bubby kind of… downplayed his involvement in a way that struck him as strange, in retrospect. Then again, the team as a whole was always kind of vouching for him.

"…continue." Gordon said, readying himself… not to trust blindly, but... to hear him out. More than he'd been willing previously.

"I kinda just… fucked off and teleported someplace. Assumed you were dead. Had a lot of… feelings about it. Didn't have much time to try and sort through'em before I found out you were okay. Well- not _okay,_ but y'know. Alive. Was talking to a guy that I knew on the Security team when you guys rolled up and merced us _both_ like, _on sight._ And I was kinda mad after that? So when I saw you again, I acted like kind of a dickhead. On purpose. Wasn't fair. You had the right to be mad, and I wasn't… exactly making myself look cool or good, and I was dumb and just… doubled down like an _idiot."_

…The reminder of just how many random people he and the science team had killed… shouldn't feel as numb as it does at this point, but Gordon doesn't want to think about that right now! He's already spent many a restless night on that topic and he'd rather focus on _new_ information rather than thinking about whether he still counts as human after killing god knows how many of them. 

"Thought I was justified, 'cause I'd gotten your arm cut off but you were being buddy buddy with Bubby and he was just as guilty of that as me, and you guys got me killed a few times, so I kinda thought it was dumb to still be mad at me specifically over something like that when technically you'd done worse to me? I wasn't- I didn't really think about…" Benrey's thought trailed off and he sniffles, before starting again, "It's relative. That's usually permanent or at least a big deal. For a lot of people. Even if it's not for me, or like, Dr. Coomer or some other people at Black Mesa. I've lost limbs lots of times. But you were like. Regular. New. In a way I didn't like… think about. Didn't take into account. Not that it makes it… cool or okay, but Black Mesa's fucked up and it's kinda hard to work or live there and not get to be a little bit fucked up also. Or start out that way."

Gordon gives an uncomfortable laugh. That much was pretty believable on the face of it. Even just… Thinking about his friends for two seconds was proof enough. He really should've taken that one lab tech's kitschy 'You Don't Have To Be Nuts To Work Here, But It Helps!' novelty desk sign as foreshadowing of the trajectory of his life rather than just vapid and evocative of the decorating philosophy of an exhausting middle-aged man who thinks the Joker is an insightful commentary on human nature or society or something. "...Fair enough, I guess."

Benrey put his head down a little bit, mouth hidden behind his folded arms. "Mm. I was a real jerk about it. Realized eventually that I was being an idiot, but by then it was like. Eugh. You hated me already. Wanted me dead. Tried to goof around with you like before, but it just… made things worse. Came off real fuckin' insensitive but I was trying to- wanted to cheer you up like the others. We tried to make you laugh a lot, 'cause it seemed to help you chill. Gave you some space for a bit, went off to... yanno, feel stuff about Black Mesa's impending wipe off the map, whined like a big ol' stupid idiot child when I got back but… around the Lambo whatever-"

"Lambda Complex." Gordon corrected automatically. The idea that some of the Team's antics were them deliberately trying to amuse him to help him relax was… heartwarming, even if it was often pretty counterproductive.

"Yeah, that. Gave up. And when we got there I started getting this… feeling about it. Tried to joke around, pal around with my friends to not think about it, but that just had me thinking about when we were friends as tykes, and feeling so so confused about how we'd gotten to where we were, so I didn't feel any better. I don't know. Xen was. A lot. Didn't like it. Out of body experience. Like I felt _off._ Was still myself, though. I was taking pictures 'cause… Xen was the end, and just 'cause I had to be the bad guy didn't mean I wasn't bummed about it."

Gordon's face twisted up in confusion. "Fuck do you mean, 'had to', man?"

"Needed a bad guy to end. Final Boss. Y'needed your big conclusion. Killin' an evil space god 'n... goin' home. You hated me already, so. Had to be me to give you the big cool fight, man."

"The fuck are you on about...?" Gordon's... struggling a bit with this. Up until now this whole story has sounded pretty in character for Benrey, but the fuck was that supposed to-?

Wait a minute. What was it Benrey had said in that speech?

'I didn't have a big plan, but you forced me to be bad, so I'm gonna be bad?'

_'The big plot is slowly unraveling before our eyes?'_

"…Benrey, you stupid _basketcase_ son of a bitch." Gordon could not contain the raw disbelief, "Did you think I _wanted_ you to do that?"

Benrey coughs and clears his throat, but doesn't otherwise respond.

"You did, didn't you? Thought I wanted some- some big fucking finale? I just wanted to go _home,_ man. I would not have given a shit if we just got to Xen, passed through and left! If anything I would've been fucking overjoyed."

Benrey is quiet for a moment, before speaking again, "You were… you were always lookin' for some kinda reason things were happening. Wanting... intel and stuff. Wanted stuff to mean something, when stuff was really as simple and fucked up as you messed up because you were late and stressed out and you were being rushed and shit went wrong because the facility-" Benrey stalls for a second, taking a deep breath as if he'd forgotten to breathe, _"The_ facility was built like an OSHA inspectors fever nightmares. You were all questions, questions, oops, all questions! Tried to be like… Tommy, once or twice, tell you shit, but like. I don't… pay attention enough. To absorb info like he does. Made you laugh though, which was nice."

Gordon should be used to the answers to his questions being as confusing as what prompted them by now, but if theres anything his friendships with the science team has taught him it's to pick his battles on stuff like this. "…So you tried to kill us to give the whole ordeal… _meaning?_ Because you thought I wanted it to have meaning. How was that supposed to give it meaning?"

"Somebody'ta… blame it all on. Someone big and bad who caused your problems. Hated me already, couldn't be anybody else. Thought you wanted it to not be just… the shittest luck imagineable. Didn't think you would have believed the whole shit was _over_ without it. Never been good at roleplaying though, so I kinda just… winged it real hard. Said some stuff i was thinking about, kinda just ad-libbed and said whatever the hell with some boss lines thrown in after it was clear y'weren't actually like, listening much. Almost kind of a relief, didn't need to put much effort in. Was kinda hoping it'd take the pacifist route, but I really should'a expected it wouldn't, Black Mesa's not fucking Undertale."

…Well. That uh. Huh. Okay. That's. Okay. Gordon's not sure how to process that information. He's... honestly dumbfounded. There isn't exactly an _agreed upon social protocol_ for reacting to a… friend of sorts, confession that he tried to kill you and your other friends to give you, _specifically,_ closure. And Gordon's brain is kind of stalling on inventing one. So he defers the question with one of his own. "Pacifist route..?"

Benrey sniffles again. "Yeah. Was kinda hoping I would get like… 'talked down' and I could just roll with it, or something. I don't blame ya for not wanting to. Didn't _expect it._ Wasn't exactly an _upstanding dude_ to you, and you didn't think of us as friends like I did anyway, yanno? And like. It gave you an opportunity to get properly even stevens with me."

Gordon's still struggling to fully process this, but asking smaller questions seemed to be helping some, it gave him something smaller to focus on. Processing it by piecemeal. "…Wait. Were we actually in danger in Xen?"

Benrey doesn't say anything, just slowly unfolds one arm from under his head to his hand in a tentative so-so gesture. Gordon thinks he detects a slight head tilt.

"Please, elaborate?"

Benrey's hand moves back to fiddle with the earflap of the hat still pulled over his eyes, and he pauses for a long, awkward moment before answering. "…Uh. Not… on purpose? That one… gun… thing, that I was calling a passport for a gag, isnt very dangerous in a big room, shot in vaguely your direction but it's so fucking slow I was uh… pretty confident it wouldn't hit any of you. But the skeletons- kinda got a mind of their own? I can _kinda_ tell 'em what to do, but they defend me and themselves even if I don't particularly want 'em to? See: the one we shoved out the fuckin' window. So you guys shooting at me meant they were gonna go after you. I could call 'em off, did once for Tommy, but the second you shot at me again they'd be back on your asses. They're honestly _really_ stupid."

Before Gordon can think to stop himself it's out of his mouth, "Fucking boneheads."

Benrey cracks up, covering his mouth and wheezes like a starting car, and the tension is lessened. Gordon relaxes, at least physically, cracking up a little himself, if not at the piss poor pun, than at least at how goofy it looks to watch Benrey hold in laughter while his hat covers the upper half of his face.

"Huh. Okay. So. That's all, uh. A lot to take in." is all Gordon can think to say about it. Because it was. So instead of making any further definitive comment on the matter, as he had no fucking clue how to feel about any of it, he returns to his first question.

"Why are you telling me all this _now?"_

Benrey jolts at the question, and Gordon hears a hum of sweet voice, Benrey's arms folded in front of his face hiding them effectively before he carefully speaks. "…Just. You know. We're barein' hearts already. Might as well. Why's it matter?"

Gordon squints curiously. "No, I don't. I wouldn't ask if I knew. And it matters because I think that you're hiding something from me, and it's not this, because whatever it is, I think you told me this to distract me from it."

Benrey's frozen stiff, not a noise or a movement except a very quiet sniffle.

Gordon's voice is stern, but patient. "Gonna need an answer, Benrey."

"...I lied about not being able to go stay at Tommy's." Benrey finally replies, speaking oddly fast.

"Wh- huh?" Gordon replies, baffled.

"I bribed Tommy with a Beyblade to lie so I could hang around here and try to get the truth off my chest to you. That's what I was hiding from you." Benrey quickly clarifies.

"That- that doesn't make any fucking sense! That's not even a fraction as bad as what you confessed to cover it up!" Gordon blurts out, honestly exhausted by this entire confusing branch of conversation.

Benrey shrugs, and he's quiet for long enough that Gordon's confused anger dulls to a simmer before he speaks again. "If uh… if it's so bad I can go now, y'know. Did what I set out to. Said and made my peace about the situation."

The anger turns over into exhaustion as that statement gives him the piece he needed to see through the- honestly remarkably thin upon inspection- cover story. He deadpans. "…Okay, so that's not _actually_ what you're hiding from me, because now you're clearly just trying to get me to kick you out."

Benrey makes a strange, strangled noise, and swallows.

"…Look, I'm not gonna try to strongarm you," Gordon starts, "But I'm not kicking you out either? Like, yeah, you fucked up a lot, big time, cannot underestimate how dumb some of the shit you pulled was. But it's honestly not as hard to believe you didn't have malicious intent as I was expecting. And I really don't mind you being here, man. Believe it or not, you're not the shittiest roommate I've ever had."

Benrey's response is sudden and incredulous. "Wait, you… believe me?"

Gordon snorts, and replies with a bit of a smirk, "Mmm… juries still out on a lot of it, but I don't _not_ believe you? I'm… I'll probably sleep on it for a bit?" 

Benrey's quiet for a long moment, putting his head down, and then that hushed, genuine little voice he does comes out from behind his folded arms, "… I do not fucking get you."

Gordon laughs, caught off guard, and says "Ditto, asshole," and in a quick motion to return the surprise, Gordon snags the hat off of Benrey's head so he can look him in the eyes. 

"You're a fucked up individual, but- wait, man, have you been _crying?"_

Benrey's eyes are wet with tears and he quickly moves to hide his face again, trying to groan in annoyance but cutting himself off with a sniffle. Gordon had kind of just assumed the sniffle was another in his repertoir of conversation filler noises.

Gordon kicks into comfort mode on instinct, hand on his shoulder, "Are you okay, man? Can I-" 

Benrey shrugs off his hand, avoiding eye contact and gesturing for him to back off, "I'm good, it's cool- I'm… cool. I didn't want to guilt-trip you by going all crybaby, it isn't your job to comfort me because I got upset while _apologizing to you._ Isn't about me. Go the fuck to bed already before I implode, please? Please and thanks?"

Gordon smiles and huffs, tilting his head curiously. "…You're really earnest about all this, aren't you?"

Benrey refuses to reply.

Gordon sighs and reluctantly pushes himself up to his feet. "Fine, fine. But I want to finish my thought first. You're a fucked up individual, but uh… I guess you're lucky I care about a lot of those."

Benrey looks up at him, eyes wide, and he has that vaguely nauseous look to him again. Something about it makes him feel a bit queasy himself, but he can't think of how to comment on it.

Gordon heads to his bedroom, stopping only to glance over his shoulder at some freely sung bubbles of sweet voice, going from white to teal.

Gordon gets himself ready for bed, but is reminded of an earlier thought at the sight of his folder with his notes at his bedside. Pink to blue…

He cracks open the folder to read back through his notes by the light of his bedside lamp.

Blue was one of the first colors he'd taken notes on. 

_Blue is contextual- meaning it changed meaning depending on the context it was used, based on things like what colors it was used in combination with._

_By itself, it could mean 'calm down' or it could mean 'I hate you,' and depending on the color it was combined with and in what order, could take on either meaning, modified or modifying the meaning of the other color or colors._

_For an example- green to blue means 'It's nice to meet you' and blue to green means 'it's time to be mean' because green, also contextual, describes hostility or the lack thereof depending on whether it has been or how it's been modified._

_(Note to self: Not emotional hostility, just willingness to defend itself, 'like how a rattlesnake doesn't have to be angry at you to let you know it can hurt you if it wanted to.' Tommy's words.)_

_So green to blue means, in more eloquent behavioral terms, "I am relaxed by your presence because we are not threats to eachother," because of the combination of green's independent passive meaning, 'I'm not mean' combined with blue's passive meaning, 'calm down.'_

_The reversal of colors produces a reversal of meaning, taking the more active, hostile meaning of both colors to produce an entirely opposite expression of active hostility._

_Blue is one of the primary cool colors of sweet voice, and like most other cool colors, expresses 'downer' emotions, as opposed to hot colors, which tend to express 'upper' emotions, and neutrals, like brown, black, white, which express more liminal, vague feelings, or pink, which is a modifier, which only expresses a sense of irony and no unique emotion of it's own._

_(Note: Tommy said the pink thing is made easier to remember if you think about how pink isn't a real color on the visible spectrum and just your brain filling in the blanks between purple and red, but I just learned that from hearing him say that, so I don't think thats going to help.)_

_'Upper' emotions are the ones that get your blood pumping, your brain on high alert. Things that FEEL warm or hot. Rage, passion, joy, anxiety._

_'Downer' emotions are feelings that sit with you, settle in to your skin or your gut or your bones. Things that FEEL cool or cold. Calm, bitterness, relief, dread._

_Neutrals rarely occur by themselves, as their vagueness is rarely ever not tinted with something else. As with visible light, Black is absence of all color, and White is a presence of all color. As such, a lot of combinations with both of them express different kinds of confusion. White typically expresses overwhelm and black typically expresses absence of feeling, which in combination with other colors expresses one is confused in the sense that you feel 'lost.'_

_Brown expresses a feeling of sickness to one's stomach that can't really be properly categorized as an upper or a downer, as it only expresses a sense of wrongness that only becomes an upper or downer in combinations._

_Pink reverses meanings, flips them on their head. It is irony: the color, and expressed by itself, it's 'like a wink.'_

"'Like a wink,' huh? So all pink to blue is, is a reversal of one of blue's meanings. But that doesn't make a lot of sense," Gordon mumbles to himself, eyes bleary as he goes over his first page of notes, "I guess the opposite of calm down would be… amp it up? But that's clearly nothing."

"But the only other meaning of plain old base blue in here is 'I hate you,' and the opposite of that would be 'I like you,' right? So why is he trying to hide that from me? I know he likes me." Gordon continues, gently smacking the page with the back of his hand as if it'll clarify the contents, "He's been trying to reconcile and get buddy buddy with me since he got back. I know damn well he wants to be friends and I'm pretty sure he knows I know that? Eugh. Thought I could do this one by myself, it's two fucking colors, but I guess I've gotta put this one on the translation backburner with Tommy too."

And away it goes, stowed in his notes app with an infuriating little question mark, along with the other new ones for the day, and Gordon tries to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eventful day, huh?
> 
> Translations:  
> Purple and yellow to red: 'I am struck by existential dread'  
> White to teal: 'I don't know how to feel'  
> Pink to blue: i dont think i need to say this one, i think i implied it hard enough even if you haven't read enough frenrey fics to know what this one generally means.


	18. Chapter 18

Benrey hasn't slept. While he prefers it that way, tonight- or, today rather, it's like half past 11 AM now- it's really not ideal, given the events of yesterday. He'd much rather sleep on it all, because he cannot stop thinking about it, and it was already exhausting at the end of hour one. But his nerves and his weary body were at war and given his preference against falling victim to regular daily sleep, he was siding with his nerves on this one.

…God, he hopes Tommy's AFK with both of them and isnt just… not answering Benrey for some reason, because good lord, he really blew it, huh? Gordon saw him do pink to blue- Well, saw his eyes after he did pink to blue. That shit was _damning._ He could really use some advice right about now, though.

Pros of Q and A night: Surprisingly fun. Cleared up a lot of things way easier than Benrey had expected. Benrey got his end of things off of his chest and Gordon was… way more openminded about it than he honestly ever imagined he would be. Gordon- almost directly- said that he cared about him.

Cons of Q and A night: Benrey has no idea where anything stands now, the last time he felt so exposed he was literally being vivisected, and he'd been forced to finally fully accept the nerve-wracking reality that he was _in love_ with Gordon. 

He wasn't just into him, he didn't just have a shitty, inconvenient crush, he was in it _deep_ and he didn't even have the luxury of pretending he wasn't gonna find out, because he might as well have _confessed._

Benrey isn't sure how Gordon was processing the previous day's revelations. His only possible hint so far was their brief encounter in the kitchen around something to the tune of 2 am, and it wasn't exactly clear. 

Benrey had moved to the kitchen table to play a little PS Vita, and Gordon had come out of his room looking disheveled, shirtless in pajama pants and yawning. Benrey startled when he saw him, not expecting his worrying to be interrupted, and thought some important conversation about it all was about to happen.

He'd braced himself, but Gordon barely paid him any mind, just… shuffled in sleepily, pulled a jar of peanut butter out of the pantry and got some on a spoon to have a little snack, and started a brief conversation with him about how weirdly different peanut butter from a jar and peanut butter in candy taste, before double-dipping a spoon he already put in his mouth for a little more PB like a nasty ass. Utterly shameless. Total anticlimax.

_Beeeeeep. Beeeeeep. Beeeeeep._

Seeing that shit and being too relieved, (and honestly, charmed,) by the whole interaction to call him out was almost more of a final nail in the coffin than having his stupid feeling slime spell it the fuck out for him. He did appreciate the brief break from thinking about it to just banter meaninglessly about peanut butter, but it was not very enlightening as to what was going on in Gordon's head.

_Beeeeeep. Beeeeeep. Beeeeeep._

He's real tired. Gordon's alarm blaring from the other room was a little infuriating, even face down sitting at the kitchen table, arms folded over his head and covering his ears. It had already started going off once, and kept going until it timed out and auto-snoozed. He knew Gordon's a pretty heavy sleeper once he's out, usually- shit, Bubby tried to roll his ass down a ladder and he didn't wake up until he was about to get dropped- but good god. Benrey's not usually very headache prone when it came to noise, but fighting off sleep certainly made him moreso.

_Beeeeeep. Beeeeeep. Beeeeeep._

…Okay, thats it, he's knocking. This is unbearable on so many accounts. That and- oh shit, he said he's doing something with his kid today, didn't he?

Benrey pushes himself to get up as quickly as he can manage to knock on Gordon's door. The first knock he's being polite about it- and then realizes his polite little knock isn't gonna wake him if that fucking alarm clock wasn't, so he knocks a bit harder, hoping to be heard above the din.

Finally after a bit of effort, success: the alarm clock cuts off and he hears Gordon wake up with a groan inside the room.

"Whaaaaat?" Gordon whines aloud, sounding half-conscious and clearly thinking Benrey wanted something.

"Bro, it's almost noon." Benrey says, voice raised only enough so he was sure Gordon could hear him through the door.

"And? Why'm I being woken up, I can sleep in if I wanna." Gordon whined, still sounding only just _barely_ awake.

He did have something with his kid today, right? Benrey wasn't misremembering that? "You… were gonna see your kid or something today, yeah?" He replies, a little uncertain.

There's a beat of silence, and for a second he expects Gordon to come to the door and glare at him or something, but instead he hears a frantic scramble inside the room and turns back to the table.

He's halfway there when Gordon comes hurrying out of his room past him in his pajama pants with his outfit for the day slung over his shoulder, rushing into the bathroom. Benrey hears the shower go on.

Hhhhhokay, so he's clearly running late. What else can Benrey do to help…

Breakfast? No, one of Gordon's ground rules was 'please dont mess with the stove,' which was fair enough in Benrey's book- he's never really had the opportunity to learn to cook for himself, he's mostly lived on Black Mesa cafeteria food and shared from-home food on lunch breaks with Tommy or friendly fellow security personnel. And like, takeout when he'd make outside trips. Stressing Gordon out wouldn't be very helpful, even if he didnt mess something up trying to cook.

…He said no such thing about the toaster or coffee machine though, and they did have bagels. Better than nothing. And he did know how to work a toaster, wasn't exactly rocket science. So he washed his hands, popped a bagel in the toaster and started the coffee machine.

The bagels pop up around the same time Benrey hears the shower stop. Benrey spreads the bagel halves with cream cheese and goes in the cabinet to grab a coffee cup, nabbing a tall to-go one in the back with a lid so he could take it with- if Gordon was this panicked theres no way he'd sit down and enjoy it and it'd be a waste for him to dump it. He… doesnt know _exactly_ how Gordon likes his coffee, but he remembers from stealing a sip yesterday morning it wasn't very sweet but it was pretty light, so he's sure to put a good bit of milk and just one spoon of sugar. Always better to lowball it if youre not sure. You can always add more, but you cant take it out.

Gordon comes out of the bathroom dressed- casually, but like, going out in public casual, so he's wearing jeans- eyes locked on his phone, mumbling to himself still with an anxious energy, "You're not gonna be late, Gordon, you've still got a little bit before you have to go-"

"Yooooooo," Benrey says, whistling to catch Gordon's attention and gesturing with the plate with the bagel, before setting it down at Gordon's usual seat next to his coffee, "Made ya quick breakfast. Nothing much, but yanno."

Gordon looks up from his phone and surprise flickers across his nervous features before softening into an easy smile and a curious look at Benrey. "…Oh? Thanks. Why?"

"You were in a rush, didn't want ya skipping it, most important meal of the day. You've seen cereal commercials. Plus coffee 'cause somehow you were _hibernating_ through that fuckin' foghorn of an alarm clock, so clearly you were pretty tired," Benrey replied, pulling a mug from the cabinet and pouring himself a cup.

Gordon nods along appreciatively, taking a hesitant sip of the hot coffee and perking up, pleasantly surprised. Seems Benrey eyeballed it about right.

"Like, we get it, you're a bear." Benrey tacks on as he sits down and before Gordon has the chance to swallow, and Gordon nearly chokes on his coffee trying not to do a spit take.

"Don't fucking- Don't do that while I'm trying to drink!" Gordon gasps out, in that wheezy way where you can tell something almost went down the wrong pipe, still smiling even as he tries to glare.

"Do what, bro?" Benrey asks, as innocently as he can muster, adding some sugar to his own coffee.

"…Shut up, man. Just shut up." he replies, sitting down and starting on his bagel, tone so light and humored he might as well be calling him a _rascal,_ and it does something funny to his heart. Something cozy.

Unfortunately, he knows exactly what that feeling is, and recognizing that fills him with a melancholy kind of dread that kills the bloom of warmth in its tracks, so he tries instead to focus on his own coffee, blowing on it a little before starting to drink, and they're both quiet a while.

When Gordon finishes his bagel, he levels a squint at Benrey, "Hey, did you sleep… at all last night? You were still up when I got up for a snack."

"I could be asking you that, Yogi. Besides, told you already. Don't need to," Benrey replies between sips, "If you were having a rough time sleeping, y'coulda just asked for help again. It's no skin off my back."

"Help?" Gordon asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah like. Blue's pretty much good to go always, endless supply. Just gotta ask and I'll be your personal snooze chanteuse." Benrey offered nonchalantly.

"What in the hell is a chanteuse- Wait, you mean like… during the power outage?" Gordon's eyes widen curiously for a moment looking away, almost shyly, before turning his gaze back to Benrey, trying to be stern. "I... appreciate the open offer? Don't deflect, though."

"I'm not, bro. Maybe you're deflecting and just projecting." Benrey retorts.

Gordon rolls his eyes at him, then asks… an odd question. "Does caffeine have an effect on you? Like, awakeness-wise."

"…Yeah. Doesn't last long, but I also don't… crash, so it's kind of uh… trade-off. Why?" Benrey responds, with a slight head-tilt.

Gordon claps his hands together in front of his face and then points them at Benrey. "I have a proposal. I think, instead of drinking that, you should go to bed? Get some rest?"

Benrey scowls. Again with this.

"Hey now. I'm not gonna try to force you, you're obviously a grown ass adult who can make his own decisions," Gordon starts, hands held up in defensive gesture, "However, as your roommate, I am within my rights to tell you I think its a dumbass decision you should reconsider because human or not, I do not think it's good for you."

Benrey shrugs, and slams the rest of his still a bit too hot coffee as if to prove a point, not flinching at the slight scalding of his tongue, and Gordon sighs.

Gordon pushes himself to his feet and picks up his coffee. "Fine, fine, but don't expect me to play nurse if your immune system gives out. Regardless, thanks again for breakfast, I've gotta get going."

"Based on your track record, I kinda still expect you to whether I like it or not?" Benrey pointed out, "For god's sake, you're fussing over my _sleep schedule._ You're a total mother hen, dude."

Gordon's cheeks flush a little in embarrassment as he turns away and huffs, and going for the door without acknowledging Benrey's astute point.

"Keys, wallet, phone?" Benrey calls out, and Gordon stops in place to double-check and hurries back into his room, emerging shortly after with wallet raised in hand and Benrey shoots him double finger guns.

Gordon hurried over, shoving his wallet in his pocket on the way to Benrey, and before Benrey can even guess at what he's doing, Gordon's hand is on his shoulder and he's pressing a chaste kiss on his head. 

It's two seconds. And he barely even feels it through the fabric of his hat. 

Regardless, he freezes up. His heart flutters in his chest and his throat burns with too many flavors to distinguish between, and he barely processes Gordon's grateful "Thank youuuu." that follows it. He watches Gordon- already turned back toward the door- blinking in stunned shock.

"See you later, man, _please_ do try to sleep-" Gordon starts, before noticing Benrey's gawking, and he's unamused. "…What, you've kissed me and Tommy _completely unprompted,_ why is it weird if _I_ give someone a kiss, but not you?"

Oh. Benrey breathes a sigh of relief, very deliberately ignoring the pang of disappointment. Right. Like with Tommy. Platonic. Obviously. For a second, considering what Gordon had seen, he was on the verge of a heart attack. He breaks his stare to look back at his coffee, unwilling to respond verbally at risk of singing by mistake.

Getting tired of waiting for a response, Gordon snorts and opens the door. "…whatever. I've gotta go. I guess I'll warn you next time? See you later."

And with that, Gordon leaves, and Benrey deflates. Huh. 'Next time.' This man is going to be… well, he'd say he was going to be the death of him, but he's already very literally been that more than once and frankly, this was worse.

Now that he's alone, he can vent freely, so he takes the moment to sing his feelings.

A cloud of vermillion and plum and buttercup bubbles into the air in sweet, melancholy notes before dissolving away. 

…Yeah. Sounds about right. Maybe he will try to take a nap, at least. Better than wallowing in _this_ all fuckin' day.

As he makes his way to the couch, his phone beeps, with a group message from Bubby to the whole science team. Including him. Which is nice.

Bubby: Bachelor party this Saturday. Since SOMEONE wussed out and wouldn't rob a goddamn bank with us like he promised, we're doing a bonfire. Tommy agreed to be designated driver.

Gordon: For the last time, it's not that I 'wussed out!' I don't want to have to uproot my whole life to go on the run when we'd- fucking inevitably- end up identified. 

Gordon: We are not physically capable of keeping a low-profile. And I don't think I should be bound to promises made while clearly delirious!

Dr. Coomer: Don't worry Dr. Pussy, we completely understand your reservations! It was just a bit of a bummer is all! But the bonfire party will do quite nicely.

Gordon: If bonfire party is code for arson, I'll come but I'm not participating. If anyone asks I am a witness and nothing more.

Bubby: Do you think I'm some kind of belligerent fire-crazed animal, Gordon? Use your goddamn head- I don't want to end up in jail, that's hardly better than the tube.

Gordon: …please tell me someone else sees the contradiction in what Bubby is saying here

Dr. Coomer: no

Benrey snorts, sends a thumbs up emoji, and settles onto the couch, wrapping his blanket over his shoulders, propping one of the throw pillows on the arm of the couch and sinking in, drifting off with ease, knowing he'll be annoyed with himself for giving in to the weariness when he wakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theres no way in hell Gordon "maybe humans dont flush the toilet" Freeman doesnt double dip like a bastard lets be real with ourselves
> 
> Translation:  
> Vermillion and Plum To Buttercup: I wish you wouldn't build me up 
> 
> (🎶...buttercup, baby, just to let me down, and mess me around- 🎶)


	19. Chapter 19

Tommy looks over the groupchat messages from this morning, distracted momentarily from his writing. How is he gonna manage to dodge Gordon's questions at the bachelor party… 

He was kind of hoping he'd have an answer for that by now. At this rate he'd have to play it by ear, and he wasnt looking forward to that. He could… probably pull it off, but it would be a lot less stressful to have a plan of action to start with than having to ad-lib.

Tommy's been spending most of the afternoon working on his best man speech, trying to keep his mind off of his nerves with work. He's been torn about what approach to take on it- Jokey? Heartfelt? Should he tell a story? That'd probably alienate Gordon a bit, because it's a bit recent- and just plain unpleasant- to tell a story about something from during the Resonance Cascade, so he'd have to dip into older stuff Gordon probably had no knowledge of, being as new as he was.

Normally, he'd probably bounce ideas off of Benrey, but he couldn't exactly do that right now, could he?

…He's probably good to take a break. He's been on this for a while and he's not making much progress. Tommy closes his laptop with a sigh and takes off his headphones, now noticing familiar music that wasn't playing when he started. Looks like dad got home from… wherever he'd been busy today, and was relaxing with his tunes somewhere.

Figuring he should go greet him, Tommy sits up from the table, grabbing a soda on his way past the fridge as he follows the music to the back porch. Tommy would assume he'd have to focus in pretty hard to completely miss him coming in and walking all the way through the house to the back door completely, but his dad can teleport, so he'd rather be charitable to himself and assume thats what happened.

"Hi dad!" Tommy greets, opening the back door and joining him on the back porch, punctuating the greeting with a sip. G-man occupies the back porch's best chair, so Tommy sits down on the stairs, looking out at the yard. Sunkist relaxes, napping partially shaded by the high fence in his personal hammock- made with reinforced aluminum to support the dog's weight and coated in white plastic, all recycled materials. Sunkist's doghouse needs some touch ups, the paint on the stable door is starting to peel. Perfect dog deserves the perfect doghouse.

G-man near automatically turned down his music- Talking Heads, as usual- and gave Tommy an awkward but pleasant little wave as he had closed the back door behind him. Tommy isn't sure how he does it, but G-man makes even the most casual of gestures look at least a bit starchy. Tommy can't imagine what his old college friends would've thought if he had met G-man early enough for them to meet- Well. Yes he could, actually. They would've found him absolutely hilarious. Tommy Bahama's dad looking like a personification of the word 'filibuster' would've probably had them in stitches.

"Hello, Tommy. How have you… been?" G-man greets, as casually as his manner of speech would allow.

"It's- It's been ok! Been a little bit stressed, but mostly- mostly, uh, good," Tommy replies, leaning against the house, "Been having some trouble writing my Best Man speech for the wedding and I have… a date coming up."

…They hadn't actually said so explicitly, so Tommy feels the need to clarify. "At least I'm… pretty sure it's gonna be a date? Gonna feel things out and um, see. And then there's the background radi- radiation of the whole… Benrey and Gordon thing."

G-man listens intently and sympathetically, and, predictably, his expression falters again when Benrey comes up. "I… see. Would you like to… talk, about it?"

Tommy's curiosity finally gets the better of him. "There- there is something I've been meaning t-, to ask you, yeah. What's- Why're you- What's with you when Benrey comes up? You get- you get all cagey."

"…Hm." The G-man fiddles with the latch of his briefcase as he responds, "I figured the… eventuality of you asking was. Inevitable. The difficulty, is, that much of the answer to my… discomfort, on the subject, is based on information which is, on a… need-to-know basis."

Tommy sighs deeply and wearily, deflating at the familiar words, thoughts drifting back to his soda and the doghouse. "…And I do not need to know."

"…Well," G-man starts, just a bit apprehensively, and Tommy's attention is immediately recaptured.

"I have a bit… more discretion, over whom has access to this information, than is typical for… 'need-to-know' circumstances. I could very well tell _you,_ Tommy- however, it cannot make it beyond us. Especially… not to Ben-rey," G-man replies, his words carrying a sudden weight, "My employers have been… _quite explicit_ in that regard."

"…Why?" Tommy asks, apprehensive.

G-man clasps his hands together over his case, and apologetically explains, "Unfor-tunately, due to the… nature of the information, I cannot share why Benrey cannot be allowed, to learn of it… without granting access, to the information itself."

Tommy groans and slams his drink before speaking again. "Wh- what can you tell me about it that isn't 'need-to-know' only? Because I'd rather- I'd prefer not to take information I know it would be- be active torture to have to keep to myself."

"Wise, however in that, case… even the information I can share freely may itself be… rather infuriating, from your perspective," G-man warns.

Tommy considers for a long moment, crushes his soda against his head and replies boldly, eyes squeezed shut as if bracing for impact. "Al- alright. Fuck it. Hit me."

G-man straightens his tie and speaks. "The information which causes my… discomfort, with the entity, is in regard to what he is. While his personality… grates on me, the true issue is… The nature, of his being. As you well know, he is not human, but something… else, and what that something else is, is what cannot be shared with him. The information with regard to his creation was not lost… on accident, but as an event my employers directed me to… orchestrate."

Tommy turns and blinks wordlessly at his father, mouth slightly agape at him as he absorbs what he's just been told, searching for any further clue and finding nothing, G-man's poker face with regard to revealing information likely perfected long before Tommy was even born.

This is…

It's something he'd _really_ like to know himself. He's been effectively stumbling in the dark on the subject for the past _decade,_ but he'd also _really_ like to be able to answer questions one of his best friends has had to some extent for at least just as long, and that's apparently _specifically and directly_ barred from his access! 

His dad was not kidding, Tommy is kind of mad! Because between chosen ignorance to the answers of something he's studied for _years_ or suffering under the weight of unshareable knowledge possibly _indefinitely,_ he's not sure which sounds more unbareable.

Tommy breathes in sharply through his teeth. Gotta… gather information for cost benefit analysis. "…Okay. So. What happens if you told me and it got out? What are the consequences? Can I know that?"

"Regrettably, no."

"Is there- there a time limit on this? Will I have to keep this quiet until I die if you, tell me, is what- uh, what I'm asking."

"Sympathies, but… Too many, variables, to say for certain, as of yet."

"I _hate_ this. I hate this a whole lot." Tommy states, frank as frankenstein.

G-man chuckles a bit at Tommy's frustration, but it's good-natured and apologetic. "I… did warn you."

"You did, blu- blunt as an atom bomb. Still hate it. Have tuh- to, uh, think on it. Decide if I… wanna deal with- with… withholding information. Possibly in- in perpet- perp- _perpetually."_ Tommy scowls.

G-man nods. "Understandable."

The silence between them that follows is palpably awkward, but Tommy can't think of a way to break the weird vibe, so he goes to touch up Sunkist's doghouse instead, and G-man turns his music back up. 

* * *

It's been a really nice day, despite the weird start, and certain nagging worries. 'Weird' not implying bad in the slightest, though he would've preferred not having to rush as much. Just different. In a nice way. Gordon wasn't used to having somebody looking out for him in his morning routines.

Gordon had wanted to take Joshie for a day out, so he'd arranged to meet his brother at the park. Between chalk brought along and trying to dig in the dirt with his little hands despite Gordon's urging against it, Joshie made a mess of himself, but the little guy had an incredible time, so he didn't mind all that much. Scared the hell out of him at one point because he decided to try to play with a potentially venomous spider he somehow got his grubby little toddler mitts on and gave him a heart attack, but otherwise it was fairly pleasant and uneventful. They went for lunch and he talked with John awhile about how things are going. How he's been feeling.

As he ascends the stairs and returns to his apartment, it occurs to him how he's actually spared… shockingly little thought to some of the revelations of yesterday, though. Which doesnt shock _him_ as much as it might someone else. Like say, for an example, himself before the Resonance Cascade.

He's still not 100% positive on how he feels- but at this point though? He was just glad to have _explanations_ that kinda _check out_ for it all. Obviously some very stupid and unreasonable decisions were made, and he still had questions- but a lot of them were mostly for verification from the others. 

Or largely unrelated. He honestly still has so many fucking questions. A lot of his remaining questions feel personal in a way that would be kind of a dick move to spring on the guy out of nowhere though, especially when he apparently has kind of a whole _thing_ about being interrogated for info about himself, so they can wait until whenever they end up doing 20 Questions night again. 

…Or if they come up naturally before then, but that seems a bit unlikely. They've come a long way in a relatively short time but Gordon hardly expected him to become an open book overnight.

Ultimately though, noone on the team was devoid of their bizarre character flaws, complicated circumstances and horrible past actions, and as far as he was concerned, he and Benrey were… well, in the process of getting past it. Benrey clearly understood he fucked up. Comically, Gordon might not have believed that quite as much as he did if he hadn't accidentally caught Benrey getting worked up over it and trying to keep it to himself the way he did. 

Benrey... was clearly making an effort. And if Gordon chose to believe him- most of it didn't even have much malicious intent, he was just a very obtuse, stubborn, snarky-ass piss-poor communicator who'd gotten a bad idea in his head and because of his obtuse avoidant nonsense, nobody had the chance to tell him it was dumb as hell and made no sense until it was already in motion.

They were just gonna… be roommates, now. That's what Gordon's decided. Just… two guys who've done some shit they're not proud of, getting through it. Gordon meant what he said- he cared deeply about a lot of truly off-the-rails motherfuckers. What's one more, especially one who thought to make him coffee in the morning?

No, the thing that's been haunting his brain today, is the implications of the idea that Black Mesa has survived catastrophe… many times before. Suddenly the hush money feels less like a _well-earned_ reward for surviving, and more like a _reminder_ and a _threat._ He's not sure how reasonable that feeling is, considering Black Mesa got blown the fuck up, but who knows! Some of the examples Benrey gave didn't sound like shit it should be able to recover from either!

Pushing aside the looming sense of paranoia in hopes of having a normal night as he enters the apartment, Gordon considers what to do for dinner, and figures he'll ask for some input. As he turns into the living room however, he's pleasantly surprised to see Benrey had followed his advice from this morning. 

Gordon found him curled up snoozing, face half squished into a pillow, mouth hanging open very slightly. His hat was pushed about halfway off his head, (clearly from moving in his sleep,) partially revealing his mussed hat hair. With each quiet exhale, a short jet of silent… actually, if he listened closely, there was a nearly inaudible low pitched thrumming- sweet voice rose from his mouth, colored in… orange and blue to… teal? 

Its… maybe sky blue. Its in the cyan family? Some of this would be easier if he was a housepainter or something. He's in the ballpark enough that he's pretty sure it wouldn't make too much difference, though. Tommy and him hadn't really gotten to specific colors between the main ones, but he remembers Tommy implying they usually mean something at least… tangentially similar to the 'base' color theyre most like. Nuances of the same vague, generalized groups of feelings.

Gordon quietly turns back to the kitchen and starts some water on the stove to boil and goes to grab his notes from his room. He knows blue, but he hasn't seen much orange, and neither of the meanings of teal he knows seem to apply, unless he's dreaming about food or something.

He grabs two packages of box macaroni (shaped like little farm animals and objects- Joshie was very picky about mac and cheese, so Gordon bought this kind basically on instinct at this point,) out of the cabinet, and got to looking as he waited for the water to boil. Its a good thing Tommy marked these worksheets with the colors, or else he might have a hard time distinguishing what he was working from a base of…

_Orange generally communicates a sense of warmth, safety, comfort or contentment, and appears often in compound with other colors to express the why and in what way. For example, yellow to orange expresses excitement of the warm and fuzzy variety due to yellow's connotations, while orange to a shade of blue expresses contented calm. In some combinations however, it can express wanting to confer these feelings to others through protection, care or concern, for example orange to green, or rather 'orange to green like butterfly weed, any threat I will impede.'_

_(Note to self: that ones kind of a clunky mouthful. The rhymes really dont seem that helpful for some of these? at least not for me.)_

Gordon snorts at his past commentary, briefly glancing up at Benrey, curious. What're the other colors about then? Gordon takes the next step in making dinner and grabs a water bottle from the fridge, careful to remain as quiet as possible, before returning to the notes, finding the section on cyan.

_Cyan expresses need, and its various tints, such as teal or celeste, express different base needs. It can also express shock or astonishment, but usually the social context in which its used is enough to distinguish between these when used on their own- if the singer startles and suddenly sings teal, they're surprised and saying so. If they're just hanging back and do teal though, they're more likely just hungry. Expressing cyans in relation to other colors is generally an expression of how having those needs met feels, or why the need isn't being met- for examples, yellow to celeste is 'too excited to rest,' or gold to aquamarine 'feeling crisp and clean.'_

…Celeste is a color? If you say so, notes.

Gordon takes to thinking through it while continuing work on dinner. Assuming it's not in response to a dream, Blue probably has to be calm. As for orange- pretty straight forward. He's clearly comfortable. That much is obvious just looking at him- he hopes he isn't drooling on that pillow. 

With those in mind, the cyan was probably celeste- after a quick google search for reference- which the examples given lead him to believe expresses a need for rest.

So putting that all together- it seems he's just… expressing that hes sleeping comfortably. A bit of a pointless exercise, puzzling that one out was. He could see that plain as day. Guy looks snug as a bug. Still though, the practice was probably good.

His mind drifts to other things until he finishes cooking. He's not sure how long Benrey's been out, and he'd hate to wake him if it was recent, but he also doesn't want the dude to not eat, and mac and cheese simply did not hit the same way after microwave reheating. He wouldn't even wish reheated mac on his worst enemy.

Carrying a bowlful and entering the living room, he approaches quietly. Benrey's shifted in his sleep at some point while he was cooking, and his face was buried in that pillow, his chullo now very nearly fully off of his head. Gordon takes a moment to pluck it off of him by it's puffball and put it on the table.

Gordon kneels and puts a hand on Benrey's shoulder and starts giving him a gentle shake to wake him.

Benrey shifts, lifting his head with an odd little grumbly throat noise that Gordon finds his brain connecting to viral videos he's seen of cats making a bootup noise when wakened. But like… The equivalent of what that might sound like coming from the vocal chords of a grown human adult.

It's… cuter than Gordon would like to admit, and sparked an odd, fuzzy warmth he did not want to investigate right now. Especially when combined with the confused, bleary, colorful eyes trying to blink away sleep currently glaring at him, gaze drifting lazily from his face to the hand still settled on his shoulder. "…Mnmmm. I'm f-… I'm up. I'm awake. What's… why am I up. Why are you getting me up? Your ass is the one that told me to sleep, make up your fuckin'… mind."

Gordon cracks up. "Yeah, man, but it's like, dinner time. It's like. Late. I made dinner."

Benrey blinks, and his eyes widen, only just now seeming to notice the bowl in his other hand.

"…You made me mac and cheese?" Benrey asked, pushing himself up on his elbows, eyes locked on the bowl.

"Yep. For you." Gordon pressed the bowl into Benrey's hands.

"…You made me mac and cheese." Benrey repeated slowly, staring at Gordon, as if to confirm.

Gordon nods, a smile creeping into his features, bemused by Benrey's still clearly sleep-fogged thoughts.

Benrey's quiet for a long, long moment. Long enough that Gordon doesn't expect him to speak again and gets up to go into the kitchen and serve himself, when Benrey finally speaks again, and what he says catches him off guard.

In the tiniest, confused and almost _reverent_ little voice, "…You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Gordon cracks up, whipping his head around to fix Benrey with a bewildered look, but Benrey doesn't elaborate, just keeps on… staring at that macaroni.

After a long silence, waiting for Benrey to say anything at all, Gordon speaks, snarky. "…Benrey, if there's something you wanna share with the class-"

"Don't worry about it." Benrey finally replies, sitting up, blanket falling halfway off his shoulders.

"Benrey."

"It's not uhhhhhh, turn of phrase." Benrey says, rubbing at his eyes with one hand, bowl of mac held in the other, "I am requesting for you to not worry about it," He yawns- good god, his teeth continue to remind Gordon of a fucking _lion's-_ and tugs the blanket back around his shoulders with a huff. _"Please?"_

Gordon squints and snorts, opting to do Benrey a favor and leave the weird reaction be. Besides, he's hungry. So he shrugs and continues toward the kitchen.

"Thank you." Benrey adds as Gordon goes, and Gordon naturally throws out a "No problem."

Gordon serves himself and returns to the living room, and sinks onto the couch next to Benrey, "You mind if I start a movie?"

Benrey, mouth full, shakes his head, and Gordon starts browsing.

He's still scrolling mindlessly through Netflix when Benrey he throws out a compliment on the food that Gordon barely registers. It takes pretty much the entire duration of dinner for Gordon to give up and ask for input. 

"…Got any movie suggestions?"

Being addressed startles Benrey, clearly zoning back out again, to attention. "Whuh?"

"…Man, how long were you asleep for? You still seem… kinda out of it. Like. More than usual, I mean. You can go back to sleep if you want."

Benrey smacks his lips. "Dunno. Don't think it was long after you left? I'm not gonna… do that though."

Gordon double checks his phone for the time, "Huh. You got something like a solid nine hours. Must've seriously needed it if you're still shaking it off. Told you so."

Benrey blows a raspberry at Gordon and makes grabby hands at the remote, and Gordon hands it off to let Benrey look for something while he checks Twitter.

Suddenly, Benrey perks up. "Hey, you, you uh. You like action movies any?"

Gordon nods, and Benrey points a finger at the screen.

"…John Wick?"

"It's the _good shit."_ Benrey insists, perking up, "Swearsies. Big favorite, cool as hell."

Gordon can't say he expected Benrey to get excited about a regular ass action movie- if he's honest he'd have expected Benrey's film taste to fall more toward shit like… Swiss Army Man or something, but hey! He never got around to seeing John Wick despite the hype, so maybe it's weird as hell and people just don't talk about it because it's… spoilers or something.

"…Alright. Sounds good. Go for it." Gordon says, and waits for Benrey to start the movie.

"Nice."

…But he doesn't. He's… on his phone. Looking at a website. He's doing it for a weird amount of time.

"You… gonna turn on the movie?" 

Benrey waves off his impatience. "Checking somethin'. Hold your horses. Just a sec."

Gordon huffs impatiently and tries to peek at Benrey's screen, and Benrey doesn't stop him. Why is he looking at… DoesTheDogDie.com? Benrey's seen it, hasn't he? Of course the dog dies, it's _John Wick,_ that's like, one of the main things anyone knows about the film.

"You think flashing or flickering lights'll… be a problem for you?" Benrey asked, before looking back to his phone, mumbling irritably, "I wish this shit was a bit more… specific…"

"Why… would they be?" Gordon asked, tentative.

Benrey seems confused, like Gordon would know already, and itches awkwardly at the back of his neck, looking away when he speaks again. "It's 'cause… uhh. Remember like… the power outage? Wanna make sure nothing's gonna… y'know."

…Oh. 

Gordon heaves a sigh. "…It's just an action movie, man. I can handle it. I've been watching them to go to _bed_ at night."

Benrey's expression is skeptical, and his tone distinctly concerned. "That sounds, uh. Kinda bad idea. Counter-productive. But just wanna… make sure you're doing good. Even not thinking about that, I can't like… watch this with Tommy for example, 'cause dogs dying in stuff makes him like, _real_ upset-"

 _"Relax._ I'll be fine," Gordon dismisses, maybe a little more defensively then he meant to, before adding, a bit softer, "…Thank you, though. Just… put on the movie."

Benrey hesitates, but he nods, and does just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benrey: gonna nap to escape yearning hell while Gordon's gone  
> Benrey: *is gently awakened with dinner by the man he's in love with 9 hours later*  
> Benrey, with hearts in his eyes and mad about it: ...i didn't. think this through
> 
> Translation:  
> Orange and blue to celeste: Comfortably getting much needed rest.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silliest content warning this badboy will probably have on any chapter: vague John Wick spoilers!

Tommy: hey, are you still up?

Darnold: yeah, unfortunately!

Darnold: just got back home with a certain little miss who ran out of the house when I went to put the trash out a few hours ago 

Attached is a photo that makes Tommy crack up- Miss Pibb, her mostly white fur _very_ noticeably dirty, looking very smugly up at the camera as if she knows her picture is being taken, and Darnold's hand in the foreground, flipping the delinquent cat the bird.

Tommy: shame on her!

Darnold: Unlike Josta, who would do something like this in ignorance, she knows what she did, and she does not regret it, and she will do it again given the chance.

Darnold: She has already chosen to learn nothing from this experience, and she is immune to shame. She is a pox on my household.

Tommy snorts and smiles at his phone, and Sunkist settles in a little closer to him, the dog's head resting on top of his torso as he lies in bed, wrapped in his favorite cozy robe (it has paw patterns on it!) with a mug of sleepytime tea in the other hand. Despite his best efforts, he has not been able to stop thinking about the bomb his father had dropped this afternoon and it's starting to effect even his most extreme efforts to fall asleep.

He honestly wouldn't have even bothered with asking Darnold if he had any other option- there was no reason to get him involved in this in any way.

The trouble was though, Benrey wasn't allowed to know, in the time Tommy's known him Coomer could hardly keep a secret if the consequences were unclear or impersonal for longer than mayyyyybe a week, Bubby would refuse to answer him out of spite if he messaged or called him at this hour, and Gordon knows too much to not be able to intuit whats going on if he went to him with this. And thats not even counting the fact he's been ghosting two of the four of them!

No, bugging Darnold with his information problem was essentially his only option other than lying awake being Bothered until morning, and showing up to their date- only maybe actually a date- half asleep.

Tommy: jokes on her, since she's gonna need a bath!

Darnold: hah, no, she LOVES water, believe it or not. A blessing, because at least bathing her after this will be easy.

Tommy: you think maybe she gets out because she wants to get baths?

Darnold: if that were the case I'd imagine she'd be more willing to come home once she got dirty. No, I think it's just a perk for her.

Darnold: that aside, was there a reason you asked if I was up?

Darnold: not that there has to be

Tommy: there was! I have a hypothetical question thats been bugging me that I wanted your opinion on.

Darnold: alright, shoot. Might be slow to answer because I've gotta give this girl her bath, though.

Okay, how to put this…

Tommy: Imagine something you've wanted to figure out, as a scientist. You put the work in, but progress has been at kind of a standstill for a long, long time, like YEARS, because of incomplete or entirely lost information and other factors beyond your control. You've done your best to put pieces together from what you have over the years, and you think you've done pretty well!

Tommy: You may not exactly know the 'what' of the subject, but you've managed to develop a pretty thorough working understanding of the 'how', the 'why' and the 'in what way,' so to speak, despite how little you've had to work with, and you're proud of that.

Tommy: You've maybe gotten a little complacent in your pursuit of answers to your questions in recent years, but in your defense, you didn't think it likely you'd get much else to work with outside of the rare blip of new information.

Tommy: and then, you ask a vaguely related question to someone who cares about you, and they suddenly tell you both that they are the reason the information is lost, and that they can tell you the 'what', but you might never be able to tell anyone else for reasons you cant know unless you agree to recieve the information, because there could be consequences you also cant know, and its unclear when, if ever, this information will be okay to tell anybody or to do anything with. And on top of all that, you know specific people who would benefit from knowing the information you have to interact with on the regular.

Tommy: what do you do?

Darnold: well, first off i'd probably be irritated i wasn't told sooner, provided they knew I'd been looking for those answers. do i have reason to believe this someone's information is good? That they're telling the truth?

Tommy: absolutely. They have every ability to have access to the information in question, and no apparent motive to mislead you.

Darnold: Hm. For one thing, I would take my time answering, see how it feels to not know when I could and if I can deal with that, you know?

Tommy: okay, say you do that, and you're not even handling the first night of that very well. What do you do then?

Darnold takes a while to respond this time.

Darnold: This is a REALLY specific hypothetical, Tommy.

Darnold: are you doing okay?

Shit. He only had himself to blame for getting caught, he wasn't exactly subtle about hiding his advice hunting.

Tommy: debatably?

Darnold: Tommy.

Tommy: genuinely, i'm not upset, i'm just. kinda frustrated.

Darnold: Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think that counts as a type of upset, Tommy.

Darnold: You can leave me out of whatever's going on if you want to, I'm perfectly content minding my own business on this if that's what you're trying to do, but you don't have to downplay the fact that you're upset about it.

Tommy groans. Sunkist lifted his head and gave him a reassuring lick on the face, earning him a soft laugh and a kiss on his nose, before he settles back down on his chest. His head is heavy, but it's a comforting pressure.

Tommy: Sorry. I appreciate that. I'm just. Ugh.

Tommy: sometimes i wish i could do like Benrey does and just. Turn my brain off and not care about not knowing shit about shit

Tommy immediately feels extremely guilty after hitting send on that message, puts down his tea and backpedals as fast as he can possibly manage.

Tommy: that sounds really fucking mean actually, I dont mean that. I don't even think he genuinely doesn't care! 

Tommy: he's just a lot better than me about getting by not knowing things, and thats not even really by choice on his part, as much as he might insist he prefers it that way nowadays.

Darnold: I don't know much about… all that, but I think anyone in your position would be frustrated. Even the hypothetical is pretty annoying to think about and it's not even a real situation I'm in.

Darnold: I honestly couldn't tell you what I'd decide in your shoes, but I do think one night is maybe a bit quick to call it on not being able to handle not knowing?

Darnold: i mean, assuming from the hypothetical, you've gone long enough not knowing that you described yourself as having grown 'complacent,' whose to say whether that's no longer achievable?

Tommy: yeah… i know. I just hate that I'm in a position where complacency might just be preferable for my social and mental health :(

Tommy: thank you, though. For the open ear.

Darnold: you're welcome. I'm glad I could help some.

There's a lull in conversation for a bit, and Tommy decides its the perfect time to lighten the mood with his own pet pictures, so he gets Sunkist to pose with him for a nice selfie and sends it Darnold's way.

Darnold: Are you certain your dog is not a draft horse in a dog costume? Good god how does he fit in your bed with you.

Tommy: barely!

Darnold: does he eat people when you're not looking

Tommy: of course not! He's perfect :)

Darnold: You could ride him like Princess fucking Mononoke!

Tommy: I'm not familiar with what that is, but i have ridden him! i prefer to rollerskate while he pulls me like a sled dog, though! It's safer and a whole lot smoother.

Darnold: Damn. I will take your word for it. I look forward to meeting him when we go out together.

Darnold: i dont meab that in a date way, i dont mean to impose that if that wasnt your intention

Darnold: *mean

Tommy: well, i meab, if you're offering a date, I'd gladly take you up on that!

Darnold: Frankly, the typo mockery is making me rethink my own willingness

Tommy can't stop himself from giggling.

Tommy: awww, no, take me back, i can change!

Darnold: hmm. Maybe. Date first and we'll see?

Tommy smiles. It's the best he's felt all night.

Tommy: sounds like a plan!

…Then, as he continues to a bit of awkward, flirty banter, he remembers why he'd contacted Darnold in the first place, and immediately his lifted mood sours as he realizes he's not gonna be able to sleep OR stop thinking about this information problem during pretty much his whole date.

Unless he gets it over with.

* * *

John Wick is a hit for a reason and Benrey couldn't be more genuinely stoked to share it, although Gordon's dismissiveness about taking… certain factors, into account before watching made Benrey nervous, so, having seen it many times before anyway, he elects to try and be vigilant of Gordon's whole… emotional situation about it. Make sure he's not just pushing through it out of hardheadedness but actually like. Enjoying himself.

At first, Gordon's being a bit chatty- said something snarky about 'sad man dead wife' hollywood tropes Benrey only half heard, but when the little beagle puppy Daisy shows up with the letter from John's wife about giving him something new to love after she's gone and John's stoicism crumbles to bits, he shuts up fast. That's how it gets ya. He knows what happens. Both of them do.

When… _that_ scene comes, Benrey always gets a little sniffly, no matter how many times he sees it, especially the bit when John wakes up and sees… yeah. Benrey keeps an eye on Gordon's reactions, and he… looks pretty bugged from the start of the break-in part, honestly. Benrey's not sure if its regular movie tension or what, but either way he's not sure what to really do about it.

He gives a weary huff, and opts to slump against Gordon, leaning his weight on him like a dog who learned to lean on people when it was nervous as a puppy and never grew out of it. (Benrey wouldn't personally know- Tommy's said something to that effect before. Had to be about a different dog from Sunkist though, because if Sunkist leaned even a quarter of his weight on someone he'd knock their ass over like a domino. The simile is convoluted and redundant in the first place anyway. Benrey's not the best at wordplay type stuff. More Tommy's area.) 

If he can't figure out how to comfort him, then the least he can do is distract him by annoying him a little. Benrey feels Gordon jump slightly and prepares to be told to get off of him, but that is not what happens.

Gordon just snorts, Benrey looks at his face and catches just the tail-end of an eyeroll as he relaxes and he reaches around Benrey, tugging a little at the blanket around him.

"If you're gonna use me as a pillow, at least share the blanket, man." Gordon says, voice soft with a sense of relief, but still with a thick enough layer of snark to tempt Benrey to blow a raspberry at him.

…Huh. Benrey wordlessly complies with the request, shifting and throwing part of the blanket around Gordon's shoulders, and Gordon settles into it, the two of them forced a little closer by trying to both stay wrapped in what is clearly a one person throw blanket. 

Gordon's sat… a little closer to him than he even needs to be- which is a regular observation of something that happened naturally as a result of trying to share the blanket comfortably, and not something that should send his brain shuddering to a halt, but it did anyway, and Benrey would like to see the brain warranty because he's pretty sure this thing is fucking faulty.

…Wait, hold on, Gordon asked Benrey for that hug when he got all shakey the night before, yeah? How the hell did he forget that? Lock that shit down, you swiss cheese-brained sentimental fuckhead, gentle grounding touch! That's Gordon's chill switch. Not… when he's mad, but still.

Benrey's snapped out of his internal dialogue by Gordon asking a question about the movie, voice stage-hushed, clearly trying to be quiet so he can still hear the movie, but not wanting to be misheard. Benrey was so busy being caught up in that thought process he'd missed nearly the whole Viggo pencil speech. "Hey, Benrey, you've seen this before- what're the fake gold looking things in the case?"

"Oh, those're… It's cool, the movie never really explains it _directly,_ but you kinda… get through context that they're. Secret underworld coin. Like. Cryptocurrency but like, real physical shit, not bitcoin." Benrey mumbles in answer, matching Gordon's hushedness and taking care to keep his thoughts straight and feelings unsung. If theres any positive that can be said of being better slept, it's that that's definitely a little easier to do. Turns out your emotions are a bit more stable and manageable when rested- who knew?

Gordon nods along with his explanation, then looks back to the screen. He seems to have relaxed a little, thankfully.

After the first big fight scene, during the bit with the cleanup crew, Gordon starts to crack up when Wick pays them, and Benrey isn't sure why, so he gives him a funny look.

Gordon's voice comes out a bit loud, a hysterical whine of amused disbelief, "The crime currency looks like Chuck E. fucking Cheese tokens."

Benrey squints skeptically at Gordon, and Gordon takes the remote and rewinds back a little. Benrey takes a second, closer look, and it takes a second to really hit him. 

"Ah-AW FUCK, they _DO,_ huh?"

* * *

Tommy shuffles into the living room with a heavy sigh, tea in hand, Sunkist following close behind.

Tommy stops and gives Sunkist a scratch behind the ears. "Sunkist, you think you could- could you go fetch my dad? I need to talk to him about something."

The dog gives a excited nod and begins sniffing the living room thoroughly, then pulls the back door open with his teeth and runs off into the night.

Tommy sits down on one of the stools at the kitchen island and waits, sipping his second cup of sleep tea with a grimace, and Sunkist is not gone long enough to make him seriously reconsider his decision. Like sure, on some level he's thinking he probably going to regret this, but he's not left thinking about it long enough to actually dissuade himself.

In Sunkist comes, tail wagging and looking very proud of himself, carrying his father by the collar of his Versace suit like a cat carrying its kitten by the scruff.

"Hello. Tommy, I'm sure… you are, aware, there are more efficient and… comfortable, ways of getting my… attention, yes?" His father asks as Sunkist puts him down and he brushes himself off.

"Mm, yeah, but Sunkist- Sunkist enjoys the game, so if it's not urgent, I like to indulge him." Tommy replies, hopping off his stool and pulling a dog treat for Sunkist out of a box on the counter.

"Understandable. A mild indignity, but understandable. How has your night… been going?" G-man asks, without any further questioning of Tommy's methods.

"Terribly," Tommy replies bluntly, passing a dog treat to G-man, "I can't… sleep. Because I'm- I'm just thinking way too much about what we talked about earlier. And I _need to sleep_ because I have a date tomorrow."

G-man hands the treat off to Sunkist and gives him a scratch beneath the chin, "Ah. Well. Am I then… correct to assume, you've made your decision?"

Tommy sighs and nods, "Yeah… yeah. I have."

G-man smiles and turns toward the backdoor he'd come in through. "Decisive as ever, son."

G-man closes the backdoor, and as he reopens it, with the slide of the glass door a portal appears in the wake of the opening door, revealing a void with streaking white lights within.

Tommy frowns. It's gonna be one of _these_ kinds of talks, huh? A show more than tell kind of thing? He knows his father has a bit of a theatric flair for these things, largely out of habit- he's said before he finds a display of ability can be very persuasive when deals are made in his work. But god, this shit gives him vertigo. Or maybe seasickness is a closer term to the feeling? His dad claims it's something that stops happening once you get accustomed to it, like a sailor getting their sealegs. He gets a weird, sick stomach feeling that makes him a little bit more prone to stumble when he has to spend any time in his dad's void pathways, is the point.

G-man steps inside, and although it looks as if stepping in would have you fall into an endless expanse below, his shoes simply land on a floor that is not there and he walks in as naturally as if he were passing through a normal door.

Tommy grabs his propeller hat- he's not submitting himself to this without any stim toys on his person- and briefly considers changing out of his robe and slippers, but his goal _was_ to go right the hell to bed after this, so that'd be a bit counterproductive.

He approaches the portal, taking a moment to try to look at the back of it through the glass door and finding it to not have one. Attempting to see the portal from the other side, it simply does not appear to be there. It's as if the door is just… left open. No black plane, nothing. Just looking at his own empty door frame. Huh.

"Heya, Sunkist? Could you- could you maybe close the door behind us when we go?"

The dog barks in the affirmative, Tommy nods back, and walks in after his dad, careful not to trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tommy, making an impulsive decision: chop chop pops lets get this forbidden knowledge out of the way i have a DATE in the morning and i want to fucking SLEEP
> 
> Most of the time, when i write this, i listen to either Very Relevant Music, [like this](https://youtu.be/eFOuUHsM8x0)
> 
> Or just music i happen to think is very good and has an energy i enjoy, [like this](https://youtu.be/nROvY9uiYYk)
> 
> But this chapter was written listening to almost exclusively [ this](https://youtu.be/NC8VyscIBSY) on loop, and thats because my brain is cursed and i cannot escape it


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! Update was a bit slower than usual because of some irl stuff and this being a Long One, hoping to get the next one up sooner but it's also probably gonna be a Long One, so who's to say, lmao
> 
> Im not 100% certain what if anything in particular I should warn for in this chapter aside from further John Wick spoilers! Enjoy!

Benrey's not sure how this happened.

…Well, that's not exactly true. He could give himself the play by play well enough. It's moreso that it just feels so _weird_ that it's happening in the context of… _everything,_ even if it had been a fairly clear sequence of events.

He'd gone to the bathroom, leaving the movie playing for Gordon's sake, given he's seen the movie an amount of times that would maybe embarrass him if it didn't kick basically all the ass there is to kick. He feels a little guilty now, for leaving Gordon alone, he'd seemed… kinda off already, and Benrey hadn't been sure of a way to help him chill more. Which is dumb as hell and unreasonable, he recognizes this, he had to go, but still. Sometimes feelings just happen whether they make sense or not.

He'd exited the bathroom, seeing with a glance into the living room that Gordon had stolen his pillow, which was fine, he was awake and had no intent to fall asleep again. He'd asked Gordon if he wanted anything from the kitchen while he was up, and Gordon didn't answer at first.

He asked again to make sure he was heard, and when Gordon answered, there was an odd waver in his voice, and it was cut off by a hitch in his breathing. He cleared it from his voice the second time, asking if he could get a powerade. Sometimes vocal cracks just kind of happen, so Benrey worried a little, but didn't bother to rush to his side or anything crazy. Grabbed drinks and some chips he juuuuust managed to reach off the top of the fridge.

But then he got back into the living room, and Gordon was… pretty clearly having a bad time. Face down in that pillow and shaking. Looking at the movie, Benrey wasn't exactly sure why. Gordon hadn't even paused it. He's trying to recall something that might set off Gordon before the current scene, but the only ideas he had were stuff previous scenes had shown and he'd seemed fine for. Not that it mattered right this second.

He'd put down the drinks and chips on the table, noticing his glasses, and asked if Gordon was… y'know, good. He heard Gordon try to clear his throat and sinuses, but even if he hadn't the fact that he had to showed itself in the way he spoke regardless. The forced, slightly haggard evenness of his voice was transparent as window glass. He'd tried to say he was fine.

Benrey approached, and asked for his spot on the couch back, and Gordon had taken a slow, steadying breath and sat up, pillow in arms, and it was not hard to tell he'd been crying at least a little. Benrey carefully placed a supportive hand on his shoulder and asked if he was sure, and that's when the floodgates broke, and oh jeez, aw fuck, then he was _sobbing,_ what the FUCK does he _DO-_

Benrey… definitely panicked a little, the violet and yellow song that bubbled from between his teeth was evidence enough, but thankfully his natural response to offer the hug seemed to be the right one. Gordon hesitated, but once he went for it, he held on like he'd fall apart if he let go.

So, now, he's just sitting here on the couch with him. Rubbing Gordon's back as he sobs into his shoulder. Feeling just a bit blindsided, even if he _does_ know how this happened. Kind of. It just feels… surreal. He's kind of at a loss for words of comfort, especially since he didn't know what in particular made Gordon breakdown. He's… never been very good at this, he doesn't think. Even when they were kids.

…Oh, that's right, he could probably help that way. They'd basically just talked about this.

He gives Gordon the gentlest shake he can, just to get his attention. Gordon lifts his head and pulls away a little, but doesn't fully let go and mumbles something that Benrey probably wouldn't understand if they weren't so physically close, given how pitchy and hiccup-y his voice was. 

"…Sorry."

Benrey snorted, giving Gordon another gentle shake, "…The fuck for? Y'didn't. Do anything. Relax."

Gordon pulls away entirely and his voice raises and his gestures and tone intensify in his frustration, "That's the problem! I was FINE, I was fucking fine. I felt _fine._ And then- then I'm alone with my thoughts for what, two goddamn minutes-?"

Gordon's breath hitches and he buries his face in his arms with a groan, hands running up into his hair.

Benrey purses his lips, brow furrowed. "…I mean. No. It doesn't seem it. 'Feeling fine' people don't. Breakdown all suddenlike generally. And it was at least five."

"I'm-" he hiccups, _"-very aware,_ thanks." Gordon gripes, dropping his arms and leveling at Benrey his best attempt at a deadpan glare he can manage with his teary eyes, and Benrey does his best to look apologetic.

"Uh, y'want me to… do the blue?" Benrey asks, hushing his voice and putting a hand on Gordon's back, and Gordon's look softens. He looks away, wiping tears from his face and wringing his hands. Heaving a difficult, shakey breath, Gordon nods. 

…Alone with his thoughts, huh? Was it. Not something with the movie, then? Something else going on here?

Benrey opens his arms to let Gordon into another hug, and sings blue as he accepts it, the orbs gently illuminating the space. The apartment otherwise only lit by the TV and a dim light often left on in the kitchen. Benrey feels the larger man relax against his shoulder. Gordon breathes out, and it's still shakey, but it's better. More even. 

He's quiet for a while, aside from a bit of sniffling, and Benrey just holds him. After a while, he finally speaks, and it's much more composed. "I don't think it worked as well as last time? I'm still… You don't build an immunity to this shit, do you?"

"Whuh? No. I mean, I'm kinda… resistant, but I'm pretty positive that's more… 'Can't get high on my own supply' type thing?" Benrey replies, earning a short, slightly gross snotty-sounding laugh (just from, yanno, crying,) and probably an eye roll from Gordon, "Plus we've only done this one other time since. You know. The whole… yeah. So that wouldn't… make much sense, even if it did work like that. But it's not like- it doesn't stop you from feeling bad _at all,_ it just chills you out. If there's something substantial up it's not gonna just… sweep it away. "

"…Ah. Right, no, that…" Gordon sighs, stifling a sniffle, "That makes sense. If it just made things a blank slate, it would've… back then, too. I kind of knew that."

After a bit of a pause, Benrey asks. "Y'wanna… talk about what's bugging you? Don't have to if you don't want to, won't push, but uh. I'm here. It's cool."

"…I don't, not... not really," Gordon admits, mumbling, "But I mean, I probably should. Preferably with a therapist, but we've already been over why that... wouldn't pan out. So."

Gordon's head rests against Benrey's shoulder, and he laughs, soft and very, _very_ bitter, shifting in the hug so one hand came to rest on the back of the opposite shoulder. "Guess talking with you'll have to do for now, yeah?"

Benrey nods in agreement, giving Gordon a gentle squeeze. Aside from the movie, the quiet looms, and the hug lasts.

Finally, Gordon pulls away. He undoes his hair tie, letting his hair fall over his shoulders, and flops against the back of the couch, head back and gaze landing squarely on the ceiling. Benrey pauses the mostly forgotten movie, just to have something to do with his eyes and hands for a second. There seems to be an unspoken agreement that direct eye contact after… all that, would be just a bit too much right now.

"…Sorry about the movie." Gordon mumbles, still looking up.

"Who cares. Not me. We can try again another time if you're feeling it, but no worries about it, K?" Benrey dismisses, before getting straight to the point, "So hooooooow… are we doing this? Wanna lay down? Therapy chair style?"

Gordon turns his head toward Benrey, looking him up and down, quizzical. He closes his eyes, then sits up and shrugs. Benrey is about to stand up to give him the whole couch, but Gordon turns and- welp. He's settled that pillow against his thigh and laid right down on it. Okay. The unspoken agreement was clearly just in Benrey's head then.

"…I. I meant. I was gonna pull up a chair, but this is- this works also," Benrey comments awkwardly, feeling pink rise in his cheeks and something a bit redder in his throat, and gently taps on Gordon's forehead with his pointer finger a few times, unsure what else to do with his hands. "So. What's uh. On the noggin?"

Gordon snorts, gently batting away Benrey's hand. "How do I even start?"

Benrey figures he'll just go ahead and ask his burning question. "Mmmmn. Did something with the movie… set you off?"

"No- well, not exactly?" Gordon replied, "It didn't _help,_ but it's not like. It wasn't something like the power outage, if that's what you're wondering. Just made it a bit harder to avoid thinking about some stuff I was… trying not to."

"Sorry." Benrey mumbled.

"What for? You tried to warn me. Maybe not for… this, but you tried. I blew it off, because generally I know my limits and figured this wouldn't be an issue, and that's not your fault." Gordon responds, reaching and briefly cupping Benrey's face with one hand and giving him a snarky pat on the cheek, before returning it to his side, draped over his stomach. "If anything, _I'm_ sorry for not taking your concern seriously."

"…Thats a dumb reason to be sorry." Benrey grumbles, as his cheeks grow warm at the touch, and his throat burns with reddish-pink voice as he casts his eyes literally anywhere but Gordon's face.

Benrey's _gotta_ figure out how to desensitize himself to the intimacy of this and _fast_ if he wants to have any chance of getting over these feelings without Gordon finding out they're there, because Gordon was starting to lean into the whole casual touchy thing, if the kiss (on the forehead, for half a second, through a HAT, he reminds himself,) this morning wasn't evidence enough.

…It was really, really nice. If things were different he would be more than all for it, but as it is, he's a blatantly hopeless lovestruck idiot and this is _torture._ Not that he should expect better of a war criminal. 

Okay, gotta focus, game face.

"…So. Whatcha mean when you say 'this'?" Benrey asks, speaking softly and using appropriate air quotes.

"So, you remember during 20 questions, when I got all… shakey?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Do you… remember what we were talking about when that happened?"

Benrey hums, trying to recall, "Uh… Black Mesa, yeah? How you got scooped straight out of college?"

Gordon shakes his head. "Before that. About the frequency of… emergency circumstances. I've been thinking about it, and it's been kind of… getting to me…?"

Benrey squints. "…Why would that get to you? You hate the place."

"That's _why_ it gets to me. I want that place to stay dead, and never fucking bother us again." Gordon's hands unfold and he spins them in an exasperated gesture, before the energy wilts and they return to their starting position. "But… given what you told me, they've survived a lot of shit before…"

Gordon grimaces, and trails off. "You can… maybe imagine, why the movie might not… sit well with me, considering what was already on my mind."

…Ah. Benrey can see what he's getting at. A lot of the movie _is_ kinda about Wick diving back into a violent past after it incidentally comes back into his life at a very bad time, and the idea of John's normal life after having done the impossible to get out of it having been a temporary escape is an idea that weighs heavy throughout the film. Benrey's pretty sure the movie's actual point is- 

He can think about John Wick LATER. Point is, he can see why it might… resonate in a less than pleasant way. 

"…Eeeeeeyeah. I. I getcha." Benrey replies, unsure what else to say on the matter. He couldn't guarantee Black Mesa was gone for good- on the contrary, it seemed… pretty unlikely to him too. Even if Black Mesa _the facility_ was gone, the people who funded the place seem like they're doing _just fine,_ if the hush money is anything to go by. But that's not exactly comforting, and he wants to be comforting.

Gordon turns his head to stare vacantly at the paused TV, and Benrey's gaze lingers on his hair. The atmosphere is still and quiet, and Benrey normally enjoys that sort of thing, but the circumstances poisoned it.

Benrey, slowly and gingerly, like one might approach a sleeping animal, rests a hand in Gordon's hair. He jolts at the touch, eyes widening and casting a bewildered look up at him, and Benrey immediately retracts the touch, giving an apologetic look back and instead folding his arms behind his head and leaning into the couch, trying to think of what else he could say.

* * *

"Look, I know it's- Dad, are you sure this couldn't have been like, a PowerPoint presentation? Or a Prezi?" Tommy grouches, glancing around the white streaked and empty expanse surrounding them, shuffling after his father, trying not to lift his feet if he can help it because his balance is _fucked_ in here. He can see the exit door a fair distance ahead.

"Well… my son, it potentially, could… however, it will be much more, effective, to convey by showing, rather than… telling," G-man replied, glancing back at him and noticing his awkward pace, pulling an apologetic look. "I'm… sorry, would you have, pre-ferred a tram ride? I… understand it's usually more… comfortable, for those who aren't, used to this."

"Nope! Fuck the tram car. Tram is worse." Tommy replied automatically, trying to shuffle a little faster, "I figured that's what you'd say, though."

G-man chuckles sensibly, and continues forward, adjusting to a slower pace so Tommy can get his footing and catch up. "Am I really so… predictable?" He comments, not really seeming to expect an answer, so Tommy doesn't give him one.

G-man pulls a warm, earnest face when Tommy catches up and matches his pace that catches Tommy just a bit off-guard. "That… aside, there are… details to this, which it is… important, to me, you get to see. As such, a… Power Point could… perhaps suffice, but would be rather lacking, I think."

Tommy quirks an eyebrow at his father, but he doesn't elaborate, and Tommy figures he'll see what he means when they get there.

As they reach the exit door, G-man stops in front of it, and turns to Tommy. 

"We will be, unseen and unheard. Ghosts witnessing bygone events with no hand in them. As such, there is… no need, to prepare yourself to do anything but bear witness. The… instance of me, you are going to see, is one from days when I was…" G-man chuckles, "Not quite as… career-focused, as I have… since become. Younger, a bit more foolish. My employers interest in Black Mesa, has been something of a… recurrence, as I'm sure I've mentioned before."

Tommy fixes his father with a curious look, the idea of a version of his father who was less of a stiff workaholic kind of an odd notion, but hey, he's really only known him a few years, so just because he's been like this much of the time doesn't mean much. "Mhm. Black Mesa's- Black Mesa's been tampering with thuh- with. They've been fiddling about blindly in god's McDonald's Playplace™ for longer than I've been alive, often in ways that would make my college ethics teacher Professor Haley have a nervous breakdown, so it attracts a bit of… attention to itself."

"Never better said." G-man agrees, "Speaking of, to set… the scene, as it were, we will first be viewing your department a considerable amount of years before your birth, and my first meeting with… a former supervisor of Biological Research, one Dr. Poulter, and, rather more… unintentionally, their assistant."

"…Poulter? As in, Dr. Dovie Poulter?" Tommy's voice grows incredulous with recognition, having heard… a number of complaints about this particular predecessor of his and how many problems she'd caused for the department as a whole, but from what he gathered they were rather well-liked and respected by most of the older scientists who actually knew her before her death.

"You mean… do you mean the _pigeon lady?_ The one who- let out all their mutant- their personal test pigeons and left the department to figure out how to deal with them all? _She's_ wrapped up in this? I mean- I. I know she wrote the only original notes on Benrey I HAVE, but…" Tommy trailed off. 

"Given, they were a… supervisor, like you, and a project she'd be leading was the one my… employers took interest in, her… reservations, about Black Mesa and her department in particular's direction, left them a prime candidate to help me… nudge things accordingly."

"I assume from- from context the project is the one that resulted in Benrey?"

"In… a sense, yes," G-man answered, wringing his hands, "You'll… you'll see for yourself."

Tommy sighed. "Could you answer one question for me, real… real quick? Before we go in?"

"Of course."

"What were your employers interested in? What's their- their motive in this?"

G-man's brow furrows, and he gives Tommy a peculiar smile. "I do not… always claim to, understand, my employers' whims, however this… hits rather close to home with them, I suppose."

…Well, it's probably not gonna get any less cryptic than that, so Tommy shrugs and gestures to the door for his dad to lead the way.

* * *

After what feels like ages, just… lying there, Gordon's mostly wanting to fall asleep and get the night over with, if he's honest. But he's committed himself to at least trying to talk, so. Thats what he intends to do.

…Benrey had managed to distract a bit of his brainpower with that little hair touch move, admittedly, and some part of him was kicking himself for scaring him off, because god, it would be _so fucking nice_ right now, it just caught him off-guard, and Gordon was a little jumpy at the moment. But he knew damn well there was no way to tell him to go for it now that wouldn't be _mortifying._ He already feels vulnerable enough just laying here with intent to vent.

"Y'know what's kinda fucked up?" Gordon finally starts, still not fully sure what sentiment he intends to start with, but fairly confident the opener will fit regardless.

Benrey makes a small "Mm?" noise, sitting up a little bit.

"It's… you know the whole… 'rob a bank' thing Bubby mentioned in the groupchat?" Gordon says, and Benrey nods, "That was my idea. Brought it up with the team before we met up with you again. While I was stumbling around bleeding to death with nothing uplifting to focus on except what I'd do if I _lived,_ but still. And y'know, I might've gone for it."

Benrey blinked, clearly struggling a bit with making sense of the information. Understandably, given it was kind of batshit. Why the fuck would he want to throw himself into even more danger after all that? 

Gordon looks down at his hands, folded over his torso, fingers interlaced. "Yeah, I know. There's like… I don't fucking know. I think the only reason I was even like… 'I don't want to do this' about it at all when we got out is I thought…" he trailed off, noticing Benrey sing a few gentle notes of sweet voice, in violet and yellow and some shade of cyan, richer and a bit more greenish than celeste had been. Violet, violet, violet… the fuck did violet mean, again?

Shaking that thought off to deal with later, he returns to his point. "…I thought maybe with Black Mesa wiped off the fucking map, I'd get a chance at like… a _semblance_ of a return to normalcy?" Gordon replies, gesturing loosely in the air, "Sleep in my own apartment, drink something that wasn't fucking _soda,_ see my son…"

"And you were right. You're home, and you're chilling. You visit your son or at least talk to 'im basically every day. Not a drop of soda in the house since I got here." Benrey said, one hand reaching around to play with a corner of the pillow Gordon's head rested on.

Gordon snorts, but it's more bitter than humorous. "Was I, though? I mean, for one thing, I hardly got a full week before you showed back up. Wasn't happy about that."

"I remember." Benrey mumbles, then takes on a little bit of a puzzled tone, "Expected you to be. A lot madder than you were though? Expected you to… punch my lights out or something at least. But it was mostly just… a lot of salt'n'venom."

"…I was kind of expecting you to show up. After a day or two rotting in my apartment it occurred to me I had no real reason to trust that your death in Xen would be any more permanent than any of the others, so it felt like… just a matter of time, really, and I was too wiped to feel _that_ mad about being proven right." Gordon admits, and follows up the thought to try to get back on topic, "Regardless, I'm kind of hitting a wall thinking about Black Mesa coming back and… I don't know. Doing something to us. Can't imagine whoever owns the fucking place is all that happy with the property damage, even if they don't care about casualties."

Benrey frowns. "…What's that have to do with robbing banks?"

Gordon sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose, backing up to the relevant topic to pull out of this tangent had clearly failed, and Benrey either wasn't picking up on the implication, or was stuck on it enough to want to make sure. 

"I'm saying, I'm worried that I'm wrong about being able to get back to having a _normal life,_ that everything's inevitably gonna crash and burn," Gordon replies, and to his irritation, feels his voice crack with the start of tears again, "And on some level, that makes me feel like I might as well _throw it all the fuck away now,_ and just go rob a fucking bank and get it out of the way. Save myself the trouble of waiting for it."

Benrey's brow furrows, and his concern is evident. "That's-" he starts to say, only to cut himself off with another jet of violet, this time accompanied by green and some reddish shade. He huffs in brief irritation, running one hand through his mess of hat hair and finishes what was clearly supposed to be a longer thought with a very curt, very worried, _"Don't?"_

Gordon clarifies, through his cracking voice, gesturing dismissively, "I'm- I'm not. I wasn't going to. I'd… I'd hope that'd be obvious. I don't WANT to do that. I couldn't do that to Joshua. It's just. A way I feel sometimes. I don't… I haven't-" 

He cuts himself off with a sniffle, and tries to even himself out a little before he speaks again. "I'm home now, but I still haven't felt _safe?_ And… I think I just want to feel… like I have some control over what happens to me."

Gordon feels Benrey gently knead the pillow under his head a bit, but he doesn't respond for a long time, and Gordon can't tell if he's lost in thought or just stumped.

Finally, he clears his throat, and he starts to say something. "…Okay. So. I can't… I can't say Black Mesa won't pull some shit _ever_ because that'd be lying. I don't know that."

"Very comforting."

"Can I say my thing?" Benrey asks, but, despite the phrasing, it sounds like he's genuinely asking permission, not being snide about being interrupted.

"…Sorry, continue. I'm… in a mood."

"No sweat. Point is. I'm not gonna bullshit you and say things I don't know. What I do know," Benrey says, holding up a finger, "Is that at the very least it's gonna be a long while since the team killstreak got the facility blown to fuck worse than I've _ever_ seen," and then held up a second, counting to two, "And it's not like you'll be alone anymore than you would be robbing a bank? Science team cares and I don't think any of us care to go back." 

Benrey plays with his hair a little bit, clearly wishing he had his hat- baaaaaarely out of reach- to fiddle with. "And um. I have _no intent_ to go back this time either, so. If you're worried about getting caught… alone, y'won't be," he said, pointing a finger at himself, "Professional security on the premises. You can take care of yourself, if the whole goddamn world decided to be your enemy you'd probably still fight like y'always have, but you don't have to."

…There, admittedly, _is_ something pretty comforting about the idea of having the protection of someone you'd taken for some kind of _space god,_ Gordon couldn't lie! It was-

WAIT ONE GODDAMN MINUTE. _HE DID NOT JUST-_

The force with which Gordon bursts out in laughter hurts his ribs, _kills_ his already pained throat, and all that was paltry compared to the instant migraine, but Gordon could not give less of a shit right this second.

"You MOTHERFUCKER, you dumb piece of shit," Gordon chokes out, cackling, hysterically affectionate, grabbing tight onto Benrey's shirt with one hand and pulling himself up slightly, shaking with laughter, "I can't believe I let you LIVE in my _HOUSE,_ I hate your fucking _GUTS,_ you make me so fucking _ANGRY!"_

Benrey laughs, sounding almost nervous, and Gordon manages to crack a teary eye open just enough to see that he's smiling at him. 

Gordon lets go of his shirt, dropping back into his lap, and starts pointing accusingly at him instead, much too hysterical to think about how close their faces just were, struggling to speak past his own fit of laughter, "I'm- I'm fucking laying here- I'm have- having a nervous _fucking_ breakdown and you're paraphrasing _Shadow The Hedgehog!"_

A very familiar sense of mischief comes into Benrey's tone as a weak smile turns to a grin. "Not my fault you recognized it. Wasn't even a direct quote. Get your own house in order before you judge me. Only Sonic title you own is _06_ and that's a _you_ problem."

"If I wasn't already worried about getting a noise complaint-" Gordon runs out of breath and pauses for air, "-for that skeleton bullshit the other night, I swear to god you'd be in a fucking _headlock_ right now."

Benrey blows a raspberry and grins, hand over heart in mock offense, "Always so fucking mean to your cool friend Benrey, so fucking mean to me I can't believe. I help you cool your jets and get you to wheeze like a dying animal and this is the thanks I get? Threats? Threats to my person?"

"You're goddamn- You're goddamn right it is!" Gordon replies with a wheeze, smile plain as day in his voice as he flicks Benrey on the nose.

Benrey doesn't flinch, but he does _cackle,_ and Gordon immediately packs away the flutter of warmth in his chest at the sight in a deep dark corner of his brain where he can think about it preferably never. His emotions are running high in general right now, he refuses to give any legitimacy to the fleeting thought that _The Cackle™_ was attractive in any way, he was still struggling to process the fact that _Benrey himself_ was.

Gordon feels the mental fatigue of the emotional rollercoaster of the last… however long he'd been breaking down set in, as his little fit of laughter starts to wind down. It's a weary smile that he gives Benrey, but a very genuine one.

"Appreciate the platitudes. I do feel a lot better, although honestly it's probably more because I laughed so hard i think I heard my last remaining braincell pop, and now I have a bit of a migraine, but still. Considering it sounds like my worries aren't unfounded, I'm still… concerned, but that said, thank you."

Benrey's grin falters, and his eyes drift from Gordon's face to his hands and then back, and he speaks with that hushed, genuine little voice he does. "It's not… platitudes. I mean it. I know it probably sounds like… Ironic, or something, coming from me? But um. You'll be safe with me," Benrey says, holding out a pinkie in offering, "Promise."

Hm. 

Would going out of the way to accept the promise with his right hand be a bit too on-the-nose? 

…Eh, fuck it. Gordon reaches with his right arm, and hooks their pinkies together with a firm shake, and when the pinkie promise concludes, the smile returns to Benrey's face, gaze soft. He looks away, and the smile deepens, and he breathes a jet of orange and green- _orange and green like butterfly weed, any threat I will impede,_ Gordon recalls, still kind of a clunky rhyme, no offense meant to Tommy- and Gordon watches his eyes shift to match with a sort of fade in effect as one eye becomes orange and the other an unnaturally vibrant green.

Benrey has _no fucking business_ being so- 

Endearing? Endearing. Endearing is the word he would use, begrudgingly, of course, and definitely not something as corny or potentially emotionally compromising as… other word choices. Benrey had grown on him. Like some kind of moss. That's. That's all.

...Hold on. Do the sweet voice orbs look… different? Like… charged, somehow? It kind of reminds him of those dinky decorative plasma lamps they sell in science museum gift shops, and it's not like any optical issue his astigmatism's ever caused him before, so he's pretty sure it's not just looking weird because his glasses are off.

"Uh-" is about all Gordon gets out, before the highest orb of orange light bursts.

Instead of the usual splash of the usual faintly glowing fluid, Benrey watches with Gordon as orange light spreads out from it in electric patterns, like the branching of Lichtenberg figures, the rest of the orbs absorbing into the roof of the light structure as the spaces between the branches fill in, forming a semi-translucent dome around the couch where they both reclined. Green ripples gently across it's surface, and everything within is tinted by its light.

Gordon feels a profound sense of warmth and comfort wash over him, like the feeling of pulling on a weighted blanket that's just the right temp, or wearing freshly dried laundry, or getting an _ideal_ hug. Is this what cats feel like when they find that perfect midday sunbeam to lie in?

He's so fucking tired, and feels very much like he should, could, must and _WILL_ fall asleep right fucking here if he has any say in the matter, and his eyes are already drifting shut. 

Then Benrey's tapping on his forehead again. 

"Yo Gordon?" He sounds… oddly nervous. Why would he be nervous? It's so fucking _cozy_ in here. _Safe._

Gordon opens his eyes with a groan, and Benrey's looking down at him, looking just a bit panicked. Gordon couldn't say he wasn't easy on the eyes in this lighting, the stubble and the mess of hat hair more charmingly scruffy than anything else. Not that that matters. Or has literally any relevancy to anything or anyone at all. 

Benrey looks up at the light above them and runs a hand into his hair, "We may or may not have, uhhhhh, a bit of situation. Just a touch of situation." 

"…Hm?" Gordon mumbled, sleepily, wanting to fall asleep so badly that he refuses to put more effort into an intelligent response. 

Benrey points at the dome above them and admits with a nervous smile, "I didn't… do this on purpose? And I don't know how to turn it off? Or how this one works? At all?" 

…Ah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benrey's brain: you're not fine and its okay that you're not fine, you dont have to feel bad for breaking down without Sufficient Reason and Buildup, thats silly  
> \---> (cortex that makes him rude) --->  
> Benrey's mouth: people who are 'feeling fine' dont just breakdown at the drop of a hat, relax it took you at least 5 minutes unattended to fall apart
> 
> Also I think Benrey is a completely unironic sonic fan and his favorite character is also completely unironically Big the Cat and he will melt you like a marshmallow peep in a microwave if you talk shit. I have no basis for this, its barely relevant and it will likely never come up its just something i feel in my heart
> 
> Prepare yourselves for Incoming Pigeon Lady
> 
> Translations:  
> Violet and yellow, panicked fellow.  
> "reddish pink" = Reddish like Valentine carnations, frustrating infatuations.  
> "violet and yellow and a shade of cyan" = Violet to Yellow and Tiffany, you're worrying me.  
> Violet and Green and Jasper, I want you to feel more secure.
> 
> Edit: i didnt expect to be called on the passing mcelroy reference so quickly, but Please understand, its important to me you understand, i have not actually consumed any of their content in some time, thank you <3


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual let me know if you think anything should be warned for!  
> Content warning for canon-typical disregard for gun safety.

Immediately upon stepping through the exit portal after his father, Tommy's hit with two things: firstly, the chill of a _deeply mixed_ sense of familiarity, of days and nights of successes and failures and senseless cruelty that regularly ruined both. 

Secondly, the distinctly familiar recognition of an atmospheric sense of post-calamity- whatever time they'd arrived here in, something had _clearly_ gone wrong very recently, and the still-lingering stink of blood, burnt linoleum and cleaning products in the air and the emptiness of this hall, one he recognized as being just barely inside Biological Research's office and dormitory complex, evidenced as much. Standard for cleanups- try to stay right where you are if not seeking medical attention, and don't get in the way of anyone important surveying damages.

The complex looks a bit different from how he recalls it, but that's to be expected. It clearly hasn't been remodeled all THAT much since… whatever year this is, but still. 

G-man seems to be waiting for something, so Tommy waits too, watching idly as the occasional small group of RAs or guards or other staff mill past, quietly griping or joking or whatever else to cope with what they'd experienced. Tommy catches the phrases 'containment breach,' 'subjects,' (notably plural,) and 'organized revolt,' so Tommy gets the gist. Unsurprising stuff, regrettably. God, they'd been on such a good streak before the Resonance Cascade. 'Nearly a year and a half without a proper incident,' he'd thought that morning. Tommy can't help but feel like he jinxed it. The calm before the storm.

Finally, a pair of scientists enter the corridor, one speaking scornfully with the other while typing away messages over a (Black Mesa issued) pager. Tommy recalls an old mentor of his complaining about the switch from pagers to cell phones. The acerbic one is unassuming, wideset and of fairly average height, sporting an asymmetrical dark brown bob beginning to grey at the roots, and round white horn-rimmed glasses. Looks around Tommy's age, maybe a bit older, but the grey hair and tired eyes could just as easily be from stress. Midwestern accent, professional posture, prominently displayed supervisor's name tag on their labcoat reading Dr. Dovie L. Poulter. The other must be her assistant, then.

The other was much more loose in demeanor, a very tall, gangly, round-faced person, with long ginger curls pinned into an updo that probably wasn't very lab safe. They wore some minimal makeup- just pink lipstick and a touch of eyeliner- and they seemed _deeply_ disappointed with something. Accent was very clearly UK in origin, although Tommy wasn't quite familiar enough with english accents to pick out where specifically they might be from. Regardless, they lacked a visible nametag, and their arms were wrapped around a large clipboard with a thick stack of papers they kept tap-tap-tapping away on with short pink nails, whistling tunelessly. Between the two of them in terms of clothing, Tommy thinks it miiiiight be the 70s? They could just be fans of bellbottoms, though. 

As the two come into earshot, G-man signals to follow.

Dr. Poulter's frustration as they fall in behind them and listen in to their conversation is quickly made clear, and so is the reason for it. 

"…I still have no idea what else they expect me to say. I told them the honest truth. They let me go without issue because I didn't treat 'em like shit!" Dovie exclaims, as the tall one touches her shoulder, "It is genuinely that simple to reduce incidents of this scale, but oh _no,_ doctor, you're just a bleeding heart hippie, it can't possibly be that sapient things want to be treated with respect."

The whistling one replied with a sigh. "Well, you know how it goes, love-dove. New liver, same eagles. Can't say I'm surprised they're not taking it for an answer, given that they never have."

Tommy frowns, feeling an immediate sympathy, as well as a surge of resigned irritation. At least forty years back, and not a lick had changed upper management-wise, did it? Impatience for results, uncaring superiors, complete disregard for employee safety or accountability if it didn't effect results- enabling the worst of them to do as they wished unless people on the lower rungs of the command ladder personally gave a damn, and being a supervisor in Biological Research who gives a damn was _hard._ Between managing your superiors expectations and maintaining empathy and compassion for the people under you, worker and subject alike, for actions they take because of the pressure on them… it wears you down. It's hard to stay positive.

Tommy had a buddy in college who was a nursing student, who explained how a mentor of his had talked to them about how unwilling some people were to listen to inconvenient truth and cautioned to take care to avoid compassion fatigue, and Tommy had gotten the idea, but never quite _understood_ it fully until he was being forced to explain, repeatedly, like a skipping record, for a _decade,_ to _grown adult human beings_ both above and below him in the chain, that mistreating subjects would not _somehow_ make productive research happen faster, and that's just the logical aspect of it- it was also just plain cruel! It wouldn't be worth it on the face of it, even if it did!

Honestly. What's the point of trying to play god if not to put your heart into it? Tommy could never understand it. How could anyone put in the amount of work it takes to create a living thing and not give a damn about the product as an individual? Or be responsible for the development of something with _feelings_ and _a mind_ and not feel obligated to do it justice to the best of your ability? It's just… unconscionable. Beyond his comprehension.

The two scientists turn down the next hallway, and the whistling one speaks again, worried, and just a bit sad. "I hope Bubby's… alright. Made a bit of a mess of things. Not that I don't understand."

"Bubby will be… fine. Definitely going to suck for a while for him, and I can't say yet what decisions will be made regarding… his prototypes, but Black Mesa spent too much time perfecting him to…" Poulter responds, trailing off with a grimace, which the whistling one mirrors.

…Oh. Tommy sucks in through his teeth a little at the realization- So it was _this_ incident.

Tommy had asked once why Biological Research had a rule against allowing subjects to fraternize with eachother- it seemed like an unnecessarily isolating policy, giving subjects even less chance to develop psychosocially in an at least _somewhat_ healthier fashion by allowing them to interact with peers and socialize. 

Even asking the question had gotten him in trouble and he didn't learn anything, so he did some reading up on files on his own time instead. He learned pretty quick that was the most painless way to learn anything at Black Mesa, really- which was mostly fine by him. He'd always been an avid reader, whether it be files, studies, articles or cheap department store romance novels. What can he say, he's got a bit of sweet tooth for garbage- the amount of time he spends watching hackneyed soap opera is proof enough. He wonders if Darnold would have any interest in them…

Regardless. At one point, 'Subject BB-Y' as the files were annoyingly insistent on calling Bubby, had attempted to organize with his prototypes to try to negotiate better treatment, and the directors, rather predictably, didn't take kindly to the idea, so, they revolted. But ultimately, Bubby and his prototypes failed, he was put in tube timeout, relocated away from Biological Research and kept under closer, more direct supervision to prevent further attempts, and now multiple subjects couldn't be on the same test site without special permissions or procedures, all just to keep them from making friends with eachother. Tommy's worked jobs that were pretty anti-union before, but this shit was ridiculous. 

Tommy and G-man follow behind as the two turn into a corridor, the walk much quieter after Dr. Poulter's words, a solemn worry thick in the air.

Finally, the whistling one speaks again, perking up a little bit, "In, ah, brighter news, the fellas in the lower Anomalous Materials lab are supposed to be bringing back our first samples from Xen soon! That's exciting!"

Poulter rolls her eyes at the taller scientist, smiling. "Extraterrestrial slime molds and mosses, whoopee. I am jumping for joy, Lydian. Really, I am."

Lydian! Finally a name.

Lydian looks absolutely aghast in mock offense, folding their arms around their clipboard. "More like rocks, but honestly! How dare you call yourself a self-respecting biologist if you _aren't_ excited by slime molds."

Poulter chuckles, "I was more talking about the moss than the mold. While I may not be very personally interested in them, I do have a healthy fearful respect of them and their fungal cousins if that makes ya feel any better, hon."

Lydian gives Poulter an exaggerated pout, and an overacted hum of consideration, striding ahead of them to hold open an door. "…Fine, fine. Say anything about lichens ONCE though, and this friendship is fucking _over,_ Dovie."

Poulter responds, flatly, and yet still comically facetious, following after, "Oh, I'd never dream of it, you'd be completely in the right-"

G-man hurries ahead of Poulter at a brisk powerwalk to slip into the room, and Tommy follows, picking up the pace to get in before she does as well, assuming it's important. Tommy doesn't know how his dad's temporal stuff works! Maybe since they can't effect anything they can also get shut out of the room? It seems about as logical as any other conclusion, and Tommy's not particularly concerned with the mechanics of this right now.

The office is… mostly normal. Regular low-pile nylon carpeting and half cheap wallpapered half cheap wood paneled walls, albeit much newer looking. Standard floorspace, ceiling height and standard furnishings. The odd bit is the placement of said furnishings- desk, filing cabinets, chairs and shelves, etcetera- they're all moved to the right side of the room, and the reason why is rather immediately obvious. 

On the other side of the room is a huge, wall-to-wall walk in aviary, populated with an impressive (but still very reasonable looking for the cage size, which Tommy respects,) number of pigeons, and the room is filled with the sound of their cooing and honking and their little wings flapping as they fly from shelf to shelf and bicker and sing amongst themselves.

In the center of the room, however, direct eyeline of the door and the first thing Tommy notices, was the past iteration of G-man. He… didn't look much different, maybe a pinch less tired looking, but Tommy couldn't pinpoint how. The only obvious difference being he had a different outfit- presumably more period appropriate? It's still the usual blue suit with a muted purple tie, but this one's coat and pants were subtly pinstriped, and it was worn with a black undershirt. 

The present day iteration of his father he'd entered the room with guided him to stand by the office desk as Dovie passes through the door.

Tommy watches Dovie enter, eyes closed, and at first missing Lydian staring behind her at the suited man who waited for them. "-Now, Dr. Ricci on the other hand, if you bring up mycelium at the lunch table while he's trying to talk about his dramas one more time, he'll probably fling you into the nearest vat of sludge at his first opportunity- Oh?"

Dovie has noticed the past G-man. And just as she does, everything in sight is awash in a blue tint. She and Tommy both curiously survey at the scene. Birds in the cage freeze in midair, and her assistant behind her in the door freezes as well, eyes unseeing as everything stops, time coming to an uncanny stillness.

Past G-man begins to speak, tone weighty, as if introducing his audience to the most important conversation of their life. "Doctor… Poulter. It is lovely to make the acquaintance of such a… dedicated, individual-"

Dovie immediately pulls a gun on him. 

Tommy had not registered they might be armed, but it did not particularly surprise him. The reaction itself surprised him a _little,_ but then again, they seem like they've worked here a while. Sooner or later, you learn to roll with the punches, and for some people in the biology department in particular, that meant being very ready to use a gun. Tommy was not one of those people, as prior to the Resonance Cascade, he'd honestly thought he didn't have the stomach for it. Retrospection is funny like that, sometimes.

Dovie speaks, shockingly unfazed. "Listen hon, I don't know who you are or what you're selling, but I've had a _real bad day,_ and I'm not in the mood to talk to yet ANOTHER cold bitch in a suit if I can help it, not even one that can… pause time, fucking _apparently."_

Past G-man is very clearly thrown off by the reaction, but he keeps a cool demeanor. "There is no need for… hostility, doctor. I am here to offer you-"

Dovie wordlessly cocks the gun in warning, and Tommy's father snorts beside him, very briefly distracting Tommy from the scene playing out before the two of them. This is a funny memory for his dad?

Past G-man frowns. "…I'd hoped you to be more… professional.... and amicable, about this. That aside, guns will not work, Doctor, as just about everything but our physical movement is… 'on pause,' so to speak. The reactions necessary for the gun to fire cannot complete."

Dovie hums in consideration, squinting at him, then sighs and puts away the gun, trusting his assertion. "…Fine. But if we are to discuss anything, I refuse to do so without my assistant present."

He blinks, confused, then gestures to Lydian standing in the doorway. "…Well, technically… they are present-" 

Dovie is unamused by the observation. They shrug and begin silently rolling up the sleeves of their labcoat, making a much more _actionable_ unspoken threat.

Past G-man seems more frazzled and irritated by the minute, putting his hands up in front of himself defensively. "…Fine! Fine."

Dovie turns to look, and Lydian, no longer frozen, approaches eagerly, bright-eyed and looking around with curiousity, spotting a pigeon in the cage frozen mid-flight, and grinning with stars in their eyes and a giddiness Tommy could only think to describe as _half-feral._ Tommy glanced at his father, seeing him look on the scene with a confounding fondness.

Past G-man, also watching Lydian, looks back to Dovie and folds his arms. "Are you… happy now? Can we get a… move on with this? I am… a busy person."

Dovie gives him a bemused, skeptical look. "…You can stop time. We have all the time in the world? Besides, that's hardly my problem. You're here to speak with me, aren't you? I know I sure as hell didn't invite you to my office, stranger. Did you, Lydian, hon?"

Lydian is inside the aviary, clipboard abandoned at the door, and leans to look around the nestboxes at Dovie, her voice sing-song. "I have no idea who that is! This shit is far out, though, it's like we're walking around in a photograph!"

Dovie turns to Past G-man. "Well, you heard them. Introduce yourself, it's only polite."

Past G-man, rattled and irritated but eager to get things back on the rails, replies, "Ah- I- Who I am… is not… important. What is important-"

Dovie snaps her fingers in his face, making him flinch. _"Name,_ sir?"

Dovie and G-man glare at eachother, Dovie's gaze cold and clinical.

Past G-man's offense is plain as day when he finally responds. "...You are not… the one in control, here, Doc-tor Poulter-"

Focused on the weird social power struggle at the center of the room, Tommy misses Lydian's reapproach completely, having exited the bird cage, and Lydian suddenly reinserts themself into the conversation, earning a smile from Dovie.

"I'm Dr. Lydian! That's a first name, don't have a surname, just got the one. Like Cher or that magician that doesn't talk." They say, voice chipper as a chipmunk, offering Past G-man a handshake.

"Teller." Dovie offers helpfully.

Lydian quirks an eyebrow and smiles at her coworker, fondly baffled. "I don't know why he'd need to tell me, if you know, can't you love-dove?"

"Oh no, Teller is the man's name, hon." Dovie tries to correct.

Lydian squints in confusion at Dovie. "How would you know? You were just asking him and he wouldn't answer you?"

Baffled by the comedy routine unfolding before him and feeling rather cornered, self-assured aura draining away like water down the drain of an unplugged sink, Past G-man stammers a clearly unplanned answer.

"My. Name. Is… Gary?"

Tommy shoots his father a look with an eyebrow raised, and catches him looking just a bit bashful. 

He itches at his cheek with one finger and doesn't meet Tommy's gaze. "G-man is… a moniker. An alias. It… was the first… name, I could think of, on such short notice."

Dovie replies, sounding barely interested. "…Sounds fake, but good enough. Now, was that so hard?"

"I… do not know who or what 'Cher' or 'Teller' are, but I understand the… need to clarify, as I have no… Last Name either?" 'Gary' continues, awkwardly accepting the handshake, looking like he wishes he were literally anywhere else.

Lydian holds Gary's hand with both of hers, and replies with a sunny grin. "Excellent! It's lovely to meet you, Mr. Gary! See, Dovie? You may catch more fruit flies with vinegar than honey, but people aren't flies."

Dr. Poulter eyes Gary with suspicion. "…If you say so, Lyddie."

As soon as the handshake breaks, Gary tightens his tie and huffs, then pushes past the both of them to head for the door. "I believe I… _misjudged_ what kind of _operation…_ you run, Doctor Poulter… I will be… Taking my business elsewhere. I refuse… to work with people who cannot… be _professional_ actors. _Bye."_

Lydian pouts as the two watch him go, storming out of the office, time returning to the room as the blue tint washes away with his exit. Dovie sarcastically calls after him with absolutely no emotion at all. "No, stop, don't go."

Tommy's father signals for he and Tommy to leave the room, and Tommy follows as directed, but lingers at the door when he hears Lydian speak again, curious about what kind of conversation they'd be having after such a strange encounter.

"I wonder what he was here for?" Lydian ponders out loud, propping up their chin on one hand.

"I don't much care, to tell ya the truth." Dovie replies, taking a brown breton cap with a little silver bird pin off a hat rack by the door and putting it on, "Don't like the aura of that fella one bit."

Lydian averts their gaze, and idly twirls a loose lock of hair around their finger. "…He's a little cute, though."

Dovie and Tommy both look at Lydian with confusion and horror, and Tommy takes the comment as his cue to go, because he doesn't want to hear someone talk about thinking his dad is hot _on principle._

As he hurries away, he does however overhear Dovie _firmly_ spurn Lyddie's taste from all the way down the hall. "Lyddie, hon, for the love of god, _NO._ He looks like someone tried to sun-dry Rod Serling's cousin that sells _bunk insurance!"_

Lydian's cackling laugh, calling to mind a witch, fades into the background as Tommy catches up with his father, who looks back at him and the office behind them with lighthearted embarassment.

"…I admit, I, did not, know… how to cope, at the time, with people who were… _not_ intimidated, in the least, by… someone, who is, nearly 7 foot, in an expensive suit… who can also stop time." He explained.

The rubber soles of Tommy's slippers squeak on the linoleum tile in the hallway. "Any- pretty much most places but Black Mesa, that's a scenario you probably didn't have to cope with all that much."

G-man gestures with his free hand, his other carrying his suitcase. "Not in… my, line of work, no. Still… rather foolish to, assume, and then storm out when my assumptions are incorrect. Comical, I thought _them_ the unprofessionals, when I should have been… better prepared."

G-man stops and clicks open his suitcase, burying his arm in it, pulling out a can of soda from somewhere deep within it's physics defying void-like confines and offers it to Tommy. "Off to… another day, in another part of the facility. After… attempting, for some time, to find a different candidate to work with, I came to determine that only Dovie would have both access to the information my employers wished to, prevent the discovery of, and the necessary enmity for Black Mesa, as an institution, to work with me. As such, I needed to contact her again, whether I liked it or not. Soda?"

Tommy takes it automatically, examining it briefly before cracking it open. Sierra Mist. Thank goodness it's something caffeine free, Tommy doesn't need to make sleeping after this any harder on himself. 

"Thuh- that doesn't… really shock me. It's pretty hard to get anywhere important in our de-partment and still want to comply with sabotaging your own work, even if they- they have enough of a moral compass to want to, sunk costs and consequences and all," Tommy laments with a sip, "Wh- where we headed next?"

"A few months later, in Waste Disposal."

* * *

Gordon sits up, _very reluctantly,_ to let Benrey get up and investigate the structure that'd surrounded the two of them. It was fairly tall- Gordon was pretty sure he could stand on his tiptoes at the center without touching it, and in terms of diameter, it encompassed a decent amount of the area around the couch- he could comfortably walk behind the couch without having to duck or anything despite the slope of the wall.

He's not fully sure whether it's clipping through or ending at the objects that aren't fully inside it, but nothing seems damaged by it, so Gordon's not too concerned with the details on that right this second. Mostly he wants to fall asleep and figure this out in the morning.

Gordon yawns, watching Benrey look around at the dome. "What do you… usually do when something new happens?"

"That's… the problem. I don't usually do anything?" Benrey mumbles, watching a ripple of green light with a squint, hands on hips, "I just go 'huh. alright.' see what happens, and like. Move on with my life. But that's not really an option, here. Surrounded by it. Gotta figure it out a little."

Gordon pinches the bridge of his nose. "…I'm not sure what I expected, but that sounds about right. Very in-character."

Benrey's anxious tone takes a turn into irritation. "I don't know what else you expect me to _do,_ man. Trial and error's all I got."

Gordon doesn't have it in him to sound anything other than sleepy. "I know that. How much time do you spend trying to figure it out on a bigger scale, though? Because getting the rules of how it works would probably be helpful, and would probably help keep you from trapping us in cozy domes or hassled by skeletons."

Benrey works a hand into the mess of his hair to scratch at his scalp. Looks softer than it should given it's constantly under a hat. He'd think it'd be greasier. Has he been taking better care of it, or-? Whatever. Irrelevant. "Thing is, I dunno if there even ARE rules, bro! It sure doesn't seem. Everything has it's own part-i-cular operation, sure, but if there's a trend for why'n'how, 26 years haven't gotten me any fuckin' closer to seeing it."

Gordon takes Benrey's hat off the table and hands it back to him. "You can't know if there's rules for something if you don't look for them."

Benrey accepts and pulls the hat on, "Can't prove a negative either. Listen, it's like this," Benrey holds out his hand to count on his fingers, "I ask myself, is it a problem? Is it helpful? Is it relevant? And if it's none of the above I could not give less of a shit."

Gordon gestures his confusion out, "…How do you… _live_ like that? Not knowing how- how your own shit works? I would be a nervous wreck, never knowing what to expect like that."

Benrey turns away and squats, looking at the dome again with a huff. "…Easily? Do you know how… an appendix works, 100%? Explain to me _exactly_ how bones works, really quickly, please?"

Gordon rolls his eyes and tilts his head back a little bit to look up at the dome, watching the green ripples on the orange surface. It's a lovely visual- it makes him feel pleasantly floaty to look at it, like staring out the window and daydreaming on a long car trip. Benrey's supernatural horseshit could just be so… _pretty,_ sometimes. 

He takes a while to respond, but he laughs before he finally does, recognizing the point Benrey wanted to make. "That's… not the same thing, Benrey? I might not be a biologist who knows the ins and outs of my body down to _the cells,_ but I know enough about my own anatomy to know when to worry about getting myself or others hurt, but you spit beams that can _vaporize people_ and aren't even fully sure how to know when it'll definitely do that or not, and at least I know that the information _exists,_ even if I don't personally know it off the top of my head."

There's a little bit more venom than Gordon expects in Benrey's response. "Lucky you. I don't care," he gestures as if operating a sock puppet, making it silently blab in mocking for a moment, punctuating it with a scoff, "Please zip it. I'm trying to… puzzle this out."

Gordon sighs. Well, clearly he does care, but thats all the more reason he should move to a more productive line of thought, really. "…Well, the blue one means calm down, and it calms you down. This one means something protective, so… cozy bubble shield? Maybe that's how it works?"

Benrey glances back at him with a quizzical squint, before looking back, hesitantly placing a hand on the wall of the dome. "I don't… think so? I mean, blue's the only one I can think of that definitely works like that, and thats uh… only half the stuff it means, even. Hard to see what death song colors got to do with turning stuff into a _thin soup."_

Gordon watches as Benrey pulls away his hand to look at it. Seems… normal enough. "Well, I'm pretty sure I remember that one being a fair bit more than one or two colors, so maybe it does work like that, and that feeling was just too complex to make an obvious connection. What did that one mean, exactly?"

Benrey continues to stare curiously at his hand, and wiggles his fingers, shrugging. "Too many… colors. Kinda hard to explain, uh. In words."

"Very helpful," Gordon snarks, then pointing and voicing some concern, "Nothing's wrong with your hand, right?"

Benrey looks up at him from his hand, showing him his completely unchanged palm. "Nnnnnope. Felt funny, though, like… static-fuzzy. Hand… sunk in a little bit too, but not through? Like… uh. That shit water does. The reason bugs can stand on it."

"…Surface tension? That's… interesting." Gordon stood up, looking around at the dome, and he approaches, reaching out a curious hand to see for himself.

Before his hand can make contact, though, Benrey's tackling him. They narrowly miss crashing onto the table, landing between it and the couch, and the impact knocks the wind out of Gordon a little bit.

He groans, more in irritation than pain, though he does recognize he'll probably feel it in the morning. And then he actually registers that Benrey's on top of him. 

…Hm. He. Sure is, huh.

Benrey pushes himself up on his hands, still effectively pinning him and boy. Their uh. Their faces sure are close. The orange and green lighting frames Benrey's face in. A way. A way Gordon's not prepared to deal with right now. His heart's jumped into his throat and his cheeks grow warm as he struggles to compose a proper thought.

Benrey, on the other hand, was apparently too flustered for other reasons to seem to register the fact he was, again, pinning Gordon to the floor, and immediately starts to tell him off, kinda… killing the moment.

 _…The moment they were not having!_ Get a fucking _hold_ of yourself Freeman, what in the goddamn are you _thinking-_

"Are you some kind of lemming, _idiot?_ You hear me say I'll keep you safe and get STUPID bold? I thought you were Mister Doctor P Haych D, you're supposed to be the _smart_ one here, fuck!"

Gordon shoves him off unceremoniously with a huff, sitting up, and trying to sidestep _that_ entirely and focus on being mad about getting tackled to the floor without warning, like a normal person. "…Lemming thing's a myth. The fuck was THAT for? You're lucky I didn't put my glasses back on yet or you might've broken them."

Benrey clasps his hands, his fingers interlaced, expression pleading. "Just because something's safe for ME doesn't mean it's safe for YOU? Works different for me than other people, SAID that already. Stay put and _not_ touching weird lava lamp dome, please and thanks? Mean as fuck of you to scare me half to death."

…Oh. Well. Gordon blushes again, this time more out of embarassment. He did say… the blue doesn't work the same for him, after all. "…Could've just fucking _said_ that instead of trying to crack my ribs playing 'Get Down, Mr. President.'"

"…Sorry." Benrey stands up and brushes himself off, and gestures out a bit of confusion, "I just- Didn't think I HAD TO? I didn't expect you to- why do you trust it not to-"

Benrey stops trying to elaborate the thought in words, pulling on his hat's earflaps again and he sings a string of color- black to red to blue in rising pitch- whose glow cuts through the orange light, and the orbs float up and absorb into the ceiling of the dome.

…Gordon pouts a little in disappointment when the dome doesn't gain the new colors. He climbs back onto the couch, laying down on his stomach to watch Benrey try to figure this out. He tries to save face a little over his momentary lapse in judgement. "It's... not that I 'trust it,' I'd just rather be getting this solved so we can go to bed, man. But whatever, I'll just lay here getting comfortable and being unhelpful, I guess."

"Bro, just… leave it to the pro, K? And… don't get comfortable? Getting comfortable's a problem, we don't know how this shit works, get too cozy with it y'might get yourself hurt," Benrey mutters, returning to his spot and running a hand against the wall, "Maybe… can pop it?" 

Gordon snorts. "…I meant that directly Benrey. I-" Gordon yawns again, "Don't know how or why, as usual, but the bubble makes me feel safe and comfortable the same way the blue makes me feel calm. The worries are still like… there, and I know they are, but I feel like they won't be able… to effect me? Like it's a distant concern for another day or someone else and I can rest easy. Frankly, I wouldn't much care if I had to sleep in here. Don't you feel that at all?"

Benrey shoots a brief look of surprise at him over his shoulder. "…Oh. I- no, I don't. But. Okay. I'm still… Y'know," Benrey turns back to the wall and pats it for emphasis, "Try to figure out how to get this down. But that's… cool. Already slept, so. Go ahead if you want to."

Gordon props his head up on one arm, trying to stay just uncomfortable enough not to slip away to dreamland, no matter how _extremely badly_ he wants to. "…I'm not just gonna take your spot, Benrey. I already make you sleep on the couch in the first place, I'm not that big of a dick. Guess I'm just saying it'd be cool as _hell_ if you figured out how to do this one on call, Mr. 'Pro.'"

Benrey shrugs, then turns to him and points a thumb at the dome wall, smacking his lips before speaking. "…I guess. I'm gonna try to poke a hole in this thing and see what happens, okay? Don't freak out if something happens."

Gordon blinks, not fully processing the implication at first, reaction a bit sluggish in his sleepiness. "…If you think something bad might happen then _don't-"_

Aaaaaand he's already shoved his hand into the wall. It pushes through and out the other side, but the bubble is uneffected.

Gordon props himself up on the arm of the couch to get a better look, concerned. "…Huh. Can you… still feel it?"

"…Yep. It's fine." He replies, popping his lips with the P in 'yep,' and Gordon watches Benrey wiggles his fingers just outside the semi-translucent glow-dome to prove it.

Benrey then attempts to pull his hand free, back inside the dome, and fails. A look of confused disbelief and indignation falling over his features. He tries again, putting his back into it, but it's lodged and theres no give at all.

Gordon quickly gets to his feet, collecting his glasses, (by god, the dome is even more impressive looking when it isn't _blurry,_ if Gordon was someone else he might even call it breathtaking,) and approaches, naturally placing a hand on Benrey's shoulder, "…Hey, you're gonna hurt yourself, pulling isn't working, man. It looks pretty stuck?"

Benrey ignores him, and pulls again, breathing in and growling irritation when, unsurprisingly, nothing changes.

Gordon folds his arms. "Told you so. Will you let me help with this now?"

Benrey breathes out a few bubbles in shades of red and yellow, and when he next speaks, his voice sounds… a bit strange, in a way Gordon's only heard a few times before. Like theres somehow… microphone distortion on his voice, despite being very much physically present and _not speaking through a microphone._ A bit on… Xen, but also like, that time Coomer cornered the two of them in his locker, so Gordon's not convinced he should be worried about it.

 _ **"Fine.**_ Hate this. It's sucks a whole lot."

"Can't you just… uh. Clip through?" Gordon suggests, not fully certain how that particular aspect of Benrey's powerset functions, whether it has limitations that would apply here or what, but it's better than Benrey pulling his arm out of it's socket or something. Gordon may be in a pretty mellow mental state right now, but he's never much liked flying blind.

Benrey seems to pause to process his suggestion, then looks a bit embarrassed as he takes a deep breath and nods, brow furrowing before locking his eyes back onto the trapped appendage. "Yeah. Yeah! Course. Can't be stuck with no-clip, not… thinking straight."

He pulls again, this time as if expecting it to come out with ease- but it still doesn't. It remains stuck in the wall.

Benrey's face falls. "…Oh, you've got to be _**fucking**_ kidding me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benrey weighing pros and cons of Cozy Dome:  
> Pros:  
> \- kinda cozy  
> \- gordon likes it, makes him feel safe which is cool  
> Cons:  
> \- a dome, possibly stuck in it  
> \- does not make me feel safe, the opposite, even  
> Results: unclear, shoving arm in wall
> 
> Tommy, the day of the rescas: man its been awhile since something fucked up happened at work, thats nice :)  
> Tommy, later: okay so i forgot to pack an actual lunch and whoever printed the schedules for the breakroom fucked up but if thats all im dealing with today thats basically nothing, haha  
> Tommy, even later: _**why is Benrey in the test chamber.**_
> 
> Translations:  
> black to red to blue, the hell is wrong with you?  
> 'shades of red and yellow,' Cinnabar and Xanthous, I can't fucking believe this.
> 
> Both Dr. Poulter and Dr. Lydian are nonbinary and go by she/they pronouns. Dovie likes being called by feminine terms like 'lady' and Lydian prefers more neutral ones.


End file.
